Ambuscade
by squeekness
Summary: Jael is ready to back up his threats, but will the Xmen be ready for him? Part 11 of the Game.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Jael isready to back up his threats, but will the X-men be ready for him?Part 11 of the Game.

Rated M for profanity, violence and some sexual content.

Disclaimer : I do not own the X-men or any of their associated villains, but the Siskans, the Dognan, Jael and the Outkasts are mine. Please do not use them without my permission. Thanks. :)

Notes :Art has been posted for Learning Curve on my website if anyone cares to look at it.

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(One)

_In the end, my choice over whether or not to save David was taken out of my hands. _

_I made a choice and it wasn't the correct one – the day before the event occurred, I didn't feel right. I was on edge and the stress was killing me. I knew this enormous secret, knew that something horrible was going to happen, and yet I felt powerless to stop it. I needed help. Finally, I couldn't take it any more. I violated one of my little rules and spoke to someone about what was going to happen. I spoke not to Babette, but to my Master._

_I was no fool. I had made preparations. I had clothes packed and money stashed in case it came down to me simply taking David and running. That was something I hadn't seen in a vision either way so I was keeping it as a very real option. Rules are things to be worked around, this I had learned from palace living. I could be sneaky if I had to be._

_So I took my chances and spoke to Trishnar. He had always been a sensible man and he wasn't completely unaware that my dreams were more than simple nightmares. He had indulged me in the past, at least listening to me if not actually acting on anything I told him. I thought he might act on this. He was quiet as I spoke to him, nodding now and again until I was finished. I thought for sure he would recognize that my talent was real, that I was speaking of a very real danger._

_To my surprise, he did not. _

"_I am sure your dreams are vivid and real to you, Dreamer," he said. "But dreams are all they are."_

_I don't have words enough to describe my distress. I had bared my soul, I had laid it all out to him in clear detail and yet, he did not believe. I admit it, I lost it. A bomb went off in my mind. The dark black rage came on me something terrible. Here it was, a **Chuckfet** once more controlling me. Owning me. Ignoring me. Deciding not only my fate for me, but that of one I truly deeply loved. I was overwhelmed with emotion and attacked my Master, something I had never done to him before. I injured him but he managed to call for his guards and they subdued me. They carried me off and he rightly put me away. _

_Once I was incarcerated, I lost all control and had probably one of the worst fits of my life. I threw spikes and flailed about , damaging only myself and my terrible terrible pride. For all of my efforts, for all of this energy I expended, I accomplished exactly nothing. _

_I should have known better, really. You see, the dreams win, one way or another. If they don't push me in the right direction when I'm sleeping, they subvert me when I am awake. The Master had me locked in a cell and it was in this cell that I found myself when Jael finally came. Jael's men came through the palace and laid waste to the place. They weren't very organized about their destruction -- one of them managed to disrupt the main power supply and the door to my cell unlocked of itself. The moment I was freed I made my way out and to the surface but by then it was too late. David was gone. _

_I wasn't without some comfort, Babette had hidden herself in her fear and wisely stayed that way until I came and rescued her. I took her and we fled, making our way to Xavier's. I had learned from this however. I could trust no one with my secret. Asking for help had gotten me nowhere. I would not ask again._

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Timmy lay sleeping in his mother's arms, warm and happy for the first time in days. They had been on the road all that time, walking all the way from Tennessee because no one would give a mutie whore and her witchbreed offspring a ride.

Timmy was five and the furthest thing from normal a human could be – or at least he looked that way. Like his mother, he was a violent neon green and was covered in a thick scrabbly skin, almost like tree bark. It looked rough and painful to touch, but it really wasn't so, or at least it didn't seem that way to him when he touched his mother. She was the most lovely and wonderful thing in his life. She was his whole world.

His mother had been normal looking most of her life, it had been an act of violence that triggered the change in her -- she had been raped by four drunken rednecks on account that she was so pretty. The change came swiftly after, not helped in the least bit that she ended up pregnant out of the deal as well. She did not blame Timmy for her changing, she didn't blame him for anything. She took him as a present from God, a reward for surviving her ordeal and treated him like a most treasured gift.

They had fled their home in Kingsport when the worst of the anti-mutant fervor had come to their small corner of the world. Timmy didn't understand, they couldn't help the way they looked any more than they could change the path of the sun. Momma had packed up only what she could carry and off they went, following the major roads as they went, trying to keep hidden as much as possible. She had been given Xavier's address by the pastor of her church and she wasted no time in going there, driven by the need to protect her son.

They had finally arrived here at the Westchester Mansion only late last night. The pastor had been correct about this place of safety -- they had been given warm food, a shower and a bed. They were here now snoozing comfortably, warm with the promise that in only a few hours, they would be given a flight to Arizona, to a place even more magical than this one. A place where all the mutants could live together and there would be no violence and pain. They would be safe. They were currently housed in a room on the first floor of the Mansion, sharing it with two other small families, all refugees waiting for a ticket out of hell.

Timmy sensed something was wrong only seconds before the ending of his tiny life. His mother jerked in her sleep, a sharp whimper leaving her throat as her arms constricted around him protectively. There was a loud whistling whine, a familiar noise. When he had played with the other kids here, one of them had imitated a missile being fired and flying through the air. It was just like that, only much much louder and far more real. The ground moved out from under him as the explosion rocked the house. Momma came awake and had only a moment to shout in alarm when there was another explosion, this one all around. Fire and heat and death and burning, it consumed them both.

Timmy's short life was over before it had really began, a tiny spark sacrificed in a war that wasn't of his own making. Outside of what remained of the Xavier Mansion in Westchester New York, Jael's great ship, the Hellion, was dealing out death and winning. Jael was done with waiting. He was making Xavier pay dearly for Kimble, making him pay in blood, just as he had promised.

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Gambit's head snapped up from his reading when his phone went off. He had been concentrating so hard on what the Dreamer had written in his journal that he had nearly jumped from his seat. He had spent most of the morningreading Aiden's diary and hadn't noticed the passage of time, it was now almost twelve. The phone bleeped again. He minimized the file he was reading and answered. It was Logan. "Get yer ass down to Chuck's office now."

"What's goin' on? Is it Kimble?"

"No. Worse. It's Jael. Get here now."

Remy didn't reply, he simply hung up and shut down his laptop. A call like that meant only one thing -- big trouble. He wasted no time in moving. In minutes he was down with the others in the Professor's ready room, adjacent to his office. All the top members of the X-men team were there, including Warren and Logan and Scott. All looked drawn and tense, the air was thick with the vibrations of sorrow and anger that only came with great tragedy.

Charles looked over his senior staff and took a heavy breath before beginning. "Jael has destroyed the Westchester Mansion and the Massachusetts Academy in Boston."

There were gasps of surprise and the crowd shifted uneasily. Most of them had already known -- the rumor mill here was effective and active as any other -- but it was still a surprise for some. The Professor turned and clicked a button on a remote. Behind him, on a big screen, came digital snapshots of the devastation, a horrible animation to go along with his bad news, as if he had to provide some kind of proof that the event had been real.

"The attack occurred only a half hour ago. These images were captured by a survivor with a digital phone that had photography capabilities. I've dispatched Fallen and the medical staff out to both Westchester and Boston. They should be there to attend to the wounded and pick up survivors within the hour."

"Why would Jael attack us now?" Bobby Drake asked, his normally cheerful face creased with worry. There would be no practical jokes from Iceman on this day.

"Because Jael certainly knew that the facilities were mostly empty and not as well defended as they have been in the past. Most of my staff is here as you well know. I'm sure Jael realized that there were still valuable assets there that hadn't yet been brought here. Plus there would be casualties. Jael wanted to make the news and a body count only ensures that."

Charles knew well enough that it was so much more than Jael getting press coverage. Although Jael hadn't sent any new messages yet, the Professor knew this was about Kimble as well. Jael was backing up his threats. Jael had threatened bloodshed for Kimble and here it was. Charles didn't want to say too much to this crowd, Jael's demands for Kimble were only known to just a few people, he didn't want to the word to spread that this was personal and have a panic on his hands.

'How many dead?" Logan grunted, his arms crossed.

"At least ten or twelve dead from Westchester alone," Charles answered, looking across the group when someone groaned out loud. "No word yet from Boston, but I expect it to be about the same. Many more are wounded. I accept full responsibility for these deaths, it was unwise of me to pull out the senior staff as I did."

"You can't protect them all, Charles," Warren offered as he lay a hand on the Professor's shoulder, he didn't want his mentor to take the blame when he had done so much for so many already. "We knew it was a risk bringing the senior staff here, but they were needed. This wasn't your fault."

"We gotta fight back!" someone from the assembly shouted out. "We should be taking the fight to him, not the other way around!"

"And how do you suggest we do that?" the Professor countered. "We don't even know where he is. We're still analyzing what data we have, but from what meager reports we have, it seems as though these schools were attacked by cloaked craft, vehicles on the move. We have no idea how many such craft he has or what they are capable of. We had no idea he was even capable of such destruction before. Until we know what he used to attack us, there is no way to track him down."

It wasn't said, not here in front of this large group, but those in the Inner Circle had already surmised that Jael had gained this new firepower from playing the Game. There was no proof, but since this was a new development it was hard to guess it had come from anywhere else. What they didn't know for certain was if this was a result of Jael building his mysterious Shalayesk machine that they had only heard rumors of. Darken, the young Games Master, had spoken of this mysterious device but had given no details. Was this new weapon already being used against them, or were they facing something worse than even this day's crisis? They had no way of knowing.

"Then we gotta beef up security here even more," Logan advised, whirling into survivor mode. "We don't know when he's gonna pop up here. I want patrols crawling all over this place and the surrounding areas."

"They are being organized as we speak," Warren answered.

"What's his plan? Why not attack us here?" someone asked.

Charles nodded and responded, "My best guess is that he's driving us here, forcing us to regroup. He's allowing us nowhere else to go, no outside resources we can use. We'll have to dig in here and hope for the best. I've called for an evacuation of all the other satellite sites. There will be a lot of new faces and we'll be short on accommodations."

"Don't none of yous be worryin' a thing about that."

Remy couldn't help but smile at the voice. Behind Charles, leaning against the wall, stood Billy-joe Alperts. Gambit was responsible for saving this one. Billy-joe had once been a male prostitute scrabbling out a rough living down in the alleyways of New Orleans. They had crossed paths and Remy had given him a card for Xavier's, not really expecting Billy-joe to accept. He was pleasantly surprised when a few weeks later Billy-joe showed up on the Professor's doorstep, a little ragged, but intact.

Billy-joe had proven to be most valuable. He was blue skinned and an obvious mutant, but his greater talent lay in his hands. He could make things disappear just by touching them. He was lucky in that he had control over this ability, he could do this at will or shut it off. He was no danger to anyone. His current occupation was making the ground under this Complex disappear, one room at a time. He was the chief reason the true nature of this place was kept secret. Excavators were not needed, each room was cleared and shored up, one at a time. Progress was swift and ongoing, more rooms and levels were being added on at a constant pace, trying to keep up with all the new folks coming in.

"Yes, I know you will see to it," the Professor said, smiling at him. He turned back to the group. "You are my most senior people, I have great need of you. I have compiled lists of people. These will be your teams. They need to be trained and put into place. I want drills and worst case scenarios acted out and prepared for. Everyone, no matter their age or status, will be given basic combat and self defense training, no exceptions. We need to be ready."

The group nodded assent. This wasn't something new to them, these things had already been on the agenda, it was just that now things were going to be moving much more quickly.

Remy raised a hand asking to be heard. "Is dis gonna slow up Set's project?" Seth had been given approval to start working on his Dragon 2 prototype, construction had been set to begin tomorrow.

The Professor shook his head and answered, "By only one day. I have a feeling we will have a lot of use for Seth's ship and want it built as soon as possible. I need the delay to extend the shield protection out over the construction site. I also want patrols and guards set up there as well."

Remy nodded, satisfied.

"That'll be all for now, people," the Professor said. "There will be update meetings every four hours. Until then, do your best and get your teams set. Dismissed."

Remy waited until most of the others had left before raising his next request. "Wit all de wounded an' extra folks comin' in, we gonna need all de space we can get. Let's move Kim in wit Aiden. Dey can use Kim's old place. It'll be all right if dey got guards dere. It'll get 'im out of de Lab."

"Agreed," Charles said quickly. He knew that to a degree Remy was taking advantage of the situation for Kimble, but also knew better than to think the thief was happy about how this had all come about.

Logan frowned. "It'll be trouble. I don't want 'em at Kimble's, it's too close to Angel. Aiden's place'll be good enough."

"Aiden's place too small," Remy complained. "It ain't no bigger dan a t'imble."

"It'll be just fine," Wolverine insisted in his 'there ain't gonna be no arguments about this' tone of voice, sealing the matter.

Charles was still thinking, lost in his thoughts. "Aiden's place should be fine," he agreed absently, thinking of other much larger things. Of course he had never been there and didn't really know just how small it was. "Besides, the guards are already in place there. All the Siskans should be in one place where they can be watched."

"Not Seth," Logan grumbled, still unhappy. Fallen often took Seth with her on her taxi rides, but not today. She left Seth behind, not willing to risk having him so close to a disaster area where Jael had been. She would be busy for a long time, first to carry the wounded, then the dead, and finally to bring the Xavier experts who would investigate the extent of the damage.

"What?" Charles asked, not understanding. "Why?"

"The older Siskans are intimate. I don't want him there alone with them."

Charles' brow crinkled as he mulled that over. It wasn't the first time he'd heard Logan refer to Seth as being younger. It seemed to fit, he was innocent and less experienced of things. What Charles hadn't known was how close the other three had become. He glanced up at Remy. "Is this true?"

"Oui," he responded, shivering off a vibration towards the sensitive telepath that said only one thing/ **_I'm not going to try and explain why, you wouldn't understand. None of you ever do. /_**

Charles nodded, mildly offended by the unspoken remark, but realizing that to the point of view of this disappointed thief, that it was also true. Many times Remy had tried to explain his point of view and it had not been as well received as Remy would have liked. It was about to happen again.

Remy gave Logan a pained smile. "I'm pretty sure Babette an' de boys would behave wit a guest in de house, mon ami. Dere ain't no worry 'bout dat."

"Really?" Logan challenged. "You told me they wouldn't fuck out in the open and guess what? I arrested their two sorry little asses in a public men's room. Am I wrong?'

Remy stiffened with anger, refusing to reply. Logan was right of course, and now the little runt wanted it acknowledged in front of the boss. He wanted Remy to lose face here, to break down the thief's credibility.

"Am I wrong!" Logan shouted, clenching his fists.

"Boys," Charles warned. "There's no need for this."

Wolverine just grinned his wolfish smile, showing his teeth in a grimace of victory. "Oh, yes there is. Gumbo here thinks he knows everything about these kids and he's just plain wrong. He ain't got one clue about them, but I do. Now, Remy. Am I wrong?"

"Non," Remy finally admitted, just to get this over with. "But jus' de same, Set' can stay wit me," Remy said next, closing this line of questioning. Regardless of what Logan thought, he had no doubt that his answer was true, he believed Kimble and Aiden were not so ridiculous as to perform in front of Seth. He was upset that Wolverine even brought it up, but it was too late now. "Jus' 'til Fallen's done ferryin' folks around."

The Professor nodded, just as willing to dismiss it. They had far more pressing concerns. "You said Aiden had some telekinetic abilities. Let's have him out at the construction site as well. I believe Seth had asked for that himself. Babette should come, too. It'll be easier to keep watch on them all in one place and it'll keep them busy."

"I don't know, Chuck," Logan complained. "If we get attacked all of a sudden, it'll be like servin' up dinner, don'tcha think?"

Charles bristled slightly at the use of the nickname he despised. Logan often did this when he was the most annoyed and wanted the Professor to know it. "The shield generator is on line now, protecting the entire airstrip, including the work site we've prepared. The patrols you're going to set up will give warning enough I think. There are at least two guard shacks with sub level access right at the site itself. I think they'll all be well."

"I just hope yer right," Wolverine grumbled. " 'Cause if yer wrong, there ain't no comin' back from it."


	2. Chapter 2

(Two)

Fallen landed the Lucky Dragon on the Westchester Mansion's front lawn. There was a time when this would have been difficult, Charles loved his trees and several large oaks had been in places were it was simply too impractical for a craft as large as the Dragon to park. Those trees were now gone, burnt down along with most of the house.

Fallen looked on this with a feeling of dread and fear. It was like looking at a war zone, only worse because this time, she would know some of the victims personally. There was always a skeleton crew maintained here to help out with the small trickle of refugees that was still coming, volunteers from Xavier's staff and folks that she had transported as part of her new job as taxi service. She herself had been due here in only a couple of hours as part of that service to ferry folks to Arizona, it was only pure luck that she hadn't been caught in this herself.

Fallen lowered the ramp of her great ship and her passengers departed. She had brought along the best of the Arizona medical staff, including Henry and Maylee. They wasted no time in checking out the damage for themselves. They needed to hurry, there were a great many wounded and the day was already growing late. Fallen did her part by using her telekinetic power to carry heavy boxes of medical supplies and helped to set up a small triage area for Beast to work.

Emergency workers had arrived from the nearby towns of Salem Center and Willard to assist, but it had been made clear early on that none of the wounded would be transported to hospitals --- once the worst of the mutant fighting had begun, no mutants were accepted at the hospitals, lest the violence damage any of the norms that might get caught in the way. The EMTs were frantic, moving the most seriously injured towards Henry's makeshift hospital while others were making small neat rows of the dead.

Fallen was filled with hopelessness. This was disaster above and beyond her ability to deal with and there was still Boston yet to attend to as well.

Henry saw her look of devastation, it mirrored his own. His training kicked in and he issued some orders, hoping to snap her out of it. "Fallen! See to it that the worst of the wounded are loaded, then take off. Head for Boston for their wounded and then back home."

"It's too much!" she gasped, swaying slightly as she was overcome. Tears poured down her face. Like a great number of mutants that had come here over the years seeking shelter and safety, she had come to love this place, it represented all the good that she and Seth had shared. It was family. It was home.

"Fallen!" Beast barked again, this time snapping her back to reality. He didn't mean to be harsh, he just had to get her moving. Crying about things wasn't going to solve anything at the moment. His tone was a little warmer as he ordered, "Take Maylee and go to Boston, just as we planned. There's others who need you. You must fly out the wounded that have already been prepared and come back for the rest. Hurry now!"

Fallen nodded and made for the ramp of the ship. She knew what Henry was saying. The Lucky Dragon was not a plane, it was spaceship and could make the run to Arizona in a half an hour, no other vessel could fly so fast. She was needed, she had a job to do. This was how she served the X-men, how she was a part of that great team. It was time to live up to their trust and faith in her. She wouldn't let them down, she had just needed a gentle shove towards the door.

Maylee was there beside her, speaking soft encouragements as they reboarded the ship and got started. Maylee was upset and yet proud of the fact that she had advanced enough in her skills to be trusted to head up operations in Boston. It was a tragedy that had brought it, but she would do her best to repay the trust that had been placed in her.

----------------------------------

"I kin helps!" Kimble protested. He was in the holding cell in the Lab that he'd taken over as his new home. He'd only just been told of the day's events and that he was being moved. He was happy to be leaving the Lab -- his worst fear had been that he would be moved down to a place in Security -- but he was now relieved to hear he was being moved in with Aiden. Good news wrapped up in bad, he wanted no more violence.

"Sorry, buddy," Logan replied, his voice a lot more gentle than the last time he had moved the Siskans around. "Orders are yer to be moved in with Aiden and out of the Lab. There's too many wounded. You'll just be in the way."

Kimble put his head down in disappointment and packed up his stuff as he'd been directed. He'd helped with Henry in the past during medical emergencies and was upset that he wouldn't be given a chance to assist now. He took it as a lack of trust and it hurt deeply.

Wolverine sensed it and placed a large callused hand on his shoulder. "Don't be takin' it all personal, kid. There's a lot of folks comin' in. Not a one of them has been given clearance. This would be a perfect way fer Jael to drop in a few spies, don'tcha think?"

Kimble sniffed. "I guess."

"This is fer yer own protection," Logan insisted, grateful that at least this time, Kimble seemed to be listening. There had been no hysterical breakdown, no crying and screaming that all of this was his fault. Kimble was being oddly passive. Maybe he was just saving it for Aiden. Either way, Logan just wanted to get Kimble moving so he could get back to his won work - checking on the security here.

"Kin Angel comes with me, too?" Kimble asked next.

Logan shifted uncomfortably, this was still a touchy subject. "She's with Remy and Molly. They're at his place fer now. There ain't no need to be gettin' upset."

"She needs ta be with me. She's mine," Kimble insisted, his voice lowering automatically with an unspoken threat. "She'll be scared."

Logan frowned, trying to keep his patience under control. He had no time for this. "There's been no direct threat against this place. We'll get an alert long before Jael comes close. There's no need to have her anywhere but right where she is."

Kimble lowered his chin and gritted his teeth, clenching his fists. He knew how it really was. This had been done this way to maintain their separation, there was still no trust there. It had all been decided away from him without his having a say. Angel would not be allowed near Aiden and Babette, she would be kept safe from his own perverted pedophile hands.

Just the same, Kimble swallowed his complaints, knowing he should just be grateful that he hadn't been moved into that holding cell down at Logan's Security station. He knew that's what Logan really wanted. It was only through Gambit's powerful persuasions that he was going to Aiden's at all. If he had been moved to Security, he probably wouldn't be allowed any visitors, at least at Aiden's he would have some company. For the first time in a while, he had the sensibility to keep quiet.

Angel would be fine, Kimble knew that. As Logan had said, there had been no direct threat on this facility just yet and if there were, well, there was no way Zander would be kept apart from his charge. Nothing had kept him from Mary and that wasn't going to change. For now he would just deal with the hand he'd been given.

Still, he wanted to make sure Logan knew it as well. "If anathin' happens," Kimble said, looking Wolverine straight in the eye, "There won't be nuthin' keepin' me away."

"Fine. Whatever," Logan said just to get Kimble moving. "Now let's go."

They left the Lab and made their way to Aiden's door. There was no ceremony, just a simple knock and Kimble slipping inside while Aiden shut the door on any further conversation. Once inside, Kimble buried himself in Aiden's arms, trembling.

"What 'asz 'appened?" Aiden whispered. He and Babette had been kept out of the loop. All he knew was that Kimble was deeply upset, something he could feel from the moment Kimble had come near his door.

"Jael burned out the Mansion back home an' one of the other schools. He's killin' alla the X-men he kin reach. Killin' them cuz a' us!" the pilot complained, unloading his grief and fear on someone he thought might actually listen.

"Non," Aiden countered firmly. He would do his best to keep Kimble from wallowing in self pity and despair, it served no purpose here. " 'E would 'ave done it anywaysz. Zey die now or later, it mattersz not. Ze X-men sztand in 'isz way regardlessz of usz."

Kimble moved on to his next complaint. "They won't lets Angel come stay with us."

"You know where she isz," Aiden reassured, holding Kimble that much tighter. "If it comesz to it, we will get 'er toged'er, all t'ree of usz."

Easy words. Aiden knew this wasn't the big attack. It didn't 'feel' right, not like it did in his dreams. In his dreams the big battle didn't start when he was here in this room, not like this, not like today. When it happened, there would be no doubt of what it what it was. There was nothing to fear just yet, he was certain of it.

Kimble nodded and gave in, responding to the sincerity in Aiden's voice. The Dreamer was strong and capable, Kimble believed, and he responded to that strength as he would a Master. Aiden would help him, Aiden would take care of him and everything was going to be fine.

Aiden was aware of Kimble's surrender and was pleased he'd kept Kimble from crossing over into hysteria. Now all he had to do was keep his lover distracted and calm, not let his mind wander to the things happening outside their door. He pulled Kimble to where Babette was sitting on the couch and sat them both down.

Babette had been playing with the Playstation2, but stopped to watch them speak. There was something in her eyes as she looked at them, as she took in their great love. Kimble didn't know what it was, there was no jealousy in her shine or anger, only that lingering sadness. She smiled as they approached and that thing was gone, replaced by her happiness. She handed Kimble a Playstation controller, her eyes all invitation. "Let's play, we shall."

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Back at what remained of the Xavier Institute in Westchester, Henry was working fast, doing his best to keep it together. A series of tents had been erected to create an onsite hospital and triage. He was now inside one that was now serving as a makeshift operating room. He knew the young woman currently bleeding to death under his hands. Betty had come to the Institute a year ago. Her gift was special -- she was enough of a telepath that she could understand anyone's language after being with them in just a few minutes. She was also slightly empathic, just enough that she would know just what to say to calm someone in distress. She had volunteered to help with the refugees coming in, working as a translator and helping to get the worst of the traumatized calm and in a better frame of mind.

Betty was now horribly wounded, she had been tossed through the house as it exploded, up and out of a second story window. Her body was peppered with glass and wood fragments, a large splinter had pierced her abdomen, causing extreme damage. Beast was sewing as quickly as he could, but even he knew it was too late. "No!" he roared in mental agony, just as she shuddered her last and the blood no longer gushed. The mighty heart that had pumped it was now still.

Soft hands touched his trembling shoulder but he couldn't see who it was, his eyes had flooded with tears. Someone moved him back and away, outside of the tent that had been hastily constructed and out into the dusk. He breathed deeply, hoping for fresh air, but all he got was smoke and the smell of the dead. He was dumped into a chair and a towel was thrust into his hands. Someone patted his shoulder and walked away, giving him some space.

Henry looked at the towel blearily and then simply held it to his face as he broke down. Betty was the third casualty he had lost in the space of a half hour, all of them friends and family. He was hurt and angry -- if the local area hospitals had only accepted these people, not all of them would have died. It had been at least forty five minutes between the first news of the attack and his arrival here. Too long and yet so little time.

Logan had described all this as a war, but the full understanding of that term did not hit Beast until now. It had taken the deaths of people he knew personally to drive home just how expensive this little confrontation was going to be. He shuddered as he thought of all he held dear in Arizona. How many more friends could he afford to lose before his mind went with them?

Beast breathed deeply. He had to get a hold of himself. Others needed him.

"Hello, Henry."

Beast looked up into the familiar rough countenance of Nick Fury's face. Really, it was just a matter of time before SHIELD arrived. After a destruction on this scale that had been caused by mutants, it was a wonder he hadn't been here before now. Nick was on the job, Henry could see. He would want to know where Fallen had come from and where she was going. SHIELD still did not know the exact location of the Arizona Complex, something that stuck in Nick Fury's craw pretty deeply. As far as the head of SHIELD was concerned, the Professor had absconded with SHIELD prisoners in his care. It was as good as kidnapping.

Beast bypassed the usual pleasantries and greeted, "Fury."

"I should have you arrested."

Henry simply nodded. "You'll do what you think is best. However, you and your Gestapo will simply have to wait. I have wounded to attend to," he replied, rising. He was angry and now that Fury had snapped him out of his reverie, he was ready to go back to work.

Nick let him go, but not before saying, "I won't take you, I'm not that irresponsible, but I'll need four of your people, one for every SHIELD prisoner you've taken to Arizona. I want reassurances."

Beast looked back at him and snarled, "Don't you mean 'hostages'? And is this really the time?"

"You took off with people that are mine with no word. It's only fair," Fury grinned wickedly. "And since this really is a crisis, I'll let you pick who gets to go."

"I'll go," came a voice from inside the tent.

Henry looked and saw Marie by the tent flap. Marie was part of his special team and one of his best nurses. She was looking at Fury with undisguised hostility and hatred. Henry nodded, allowing her to have make her choice and said pointedly, "I hate to lose you, it'll be a loss at the Complex, especially with so many wounded."

"Then it'll be on Fury's big fat head," she replied, not missing a beat.

Nick Fury scowled. "You have to understand where I'm coming from here. You people violated special agreements, agreements that would never have been made to anyone else. You broke the faith, not me."

"Kiss my ass!" Marie said, her tone betraying a clear lack of interest in Fury's excuses.

"Any time, honey. Take her first," Fury ordered to his men. They stepped forward and Marie didn't fight them.

"We'll come for you," Henry promised Marie, his threat sincere. He didn't know when of course, only that it would be done. No one got left behind, it had always been that way.

"Don't worry about me," Marie said, her voice steady even as a mutant restraining collar was placed around her neck. "You worry about them in there. You've got another bleeder, move quickly."

Beast could only watch as she was towed away. He turned his back on the head of SHIELD and went back into the tent, away from things that didn't matter. Moments later, he was back at work.


	3. Chapter 3

(Three)

Seth lay in the bathtub, neck deep in near scalding water, listening to the soft drip, drip of the faucet. Remy had collected him from the Lab two hours earlier and brought him here to his apartment to be babysat like a child. It hadn't been a good day.

Seth had been crabby from the moment he first got started that morning. He'd slept but was kept on edge by a fine nightmare where he'd been kidnapped and held down and raped. This strange new Sickness infecting his body was carried over into his dreams, he was aroused by the horrific experience as much as he was terrified by it. He woke, shaken, and simply mumbled some excuse to placate Fallen enough that he could slip out the door to the Lab without being pestered. He knew she was aware that he was struggling, that he wasn't quite **_well_**, but so far she was giving him some space.

Of course, she was busy enough herself.

Seth had been in the Lab a few hours when the call came about Jael's strike on the Westchester Complex. Fallen never even got a chance to tell him goodbye before she was off. Henry was gone and Remy had come to his work station, carefully dragging him off before the first of the dead and wounded could arrive and upset him. Seth had never done well with blood. The thief was calm and patient as was his way, even when Seth squeaked his protests. It hadn't worked and now he was here instead of home where he belonged.

Now, Seth liked it at Remy's, to be sure. Angel was here, always eager to play, and Molly had cooked up something delightfully wicked, something she knew he would enjoy. Seth shivered slightly at the thought of it. She had made fried chicken with the works, something he would never get at home. Homemade mashed potatoes, gravy. He had gorged himself, trying to scratch that itch inside that was forever nagging at him, hoping that food would soothe it away. It didn't work, but damn, it had been one fine meal. He had eaten so much it was a wonder he was even still awake.

He might have enjoyed it more if it wasn't for the Sickness.

That's what he'd come to call it now. The Sickness. He was surely infected with some kind of madness or evil. He had entertained the idea that he might be suffering from **Shemusk**, the strange Siskan puberty that Aiden had written of, but he couldn't escape the fact that Aiden had claimed it only affected newly made Courtesans, and only the Lushna-esk at that. Seth counted his years at about seven, the time he'd spent outside of the system. If you added his total time of awareness, you could tack on another three. No one had ever called Seth Lushna-esk, no one had even considered it, the idea was so outrageous. He was a simple Siskan Courtesan, nothing more. No, this had to be something else. It had even occurred to him that he'd picked up some kind of program virus from the computer he'd jumped into so foolishly. It wasn't out of the question that his logic centers were being attacked by some rogue program he could do nothing about. The idea made him feel helpless and frightened. His emotions were running a bit wild these days, something that was getting harder and harder to hide.

He'd enjoyed the meal Molly had made, feeling quite happy after an hour of good play with Angel. But then as he sat at the table, the headache crept back up on him and the vibrations leaking from Remy's body started to drive him slightly mad. Gambit was in a good mood, happy to have a guest in the house and always half aroused himself with Molly so close. Seth could feel it, it rubbed up against his overactive senses like sandpaper over a persistent itch, lovely and painful at the same time. Seth's tormented mind shifted gears in rapid succession, moving from happiness from the family time to arousal from having Remy's Kundatesh so near, then anger at that arousal. Seth was fearful that Angel or someone would touch him and flare those feelings out into the open.

Seth excused himself as soon as was appropriate in polite company and fled to the bathroom for a bath, hiding here in relative peace. Once in the bath, he'd jerked off twice in rapid succession with no satisfaction, his rage spiking even as he'd watched the gel from his release shimmer away in the soap filled water. He didn't know if he wanted to scream, cry or just bash his brains out against the wall. He tried to calm himself, reciting mathematics and thinking of his magnificent ship that was soon to be built. The anger had soon drifted off and left a deep depression in its wake.

He prayed Fallen would be done and come collect him soon. He was going to go mad. He closed his eyes, praying for peace to come to his poor train wreck of a mind. It wasn't going to come. He twitched in irritation when there was a soft knock on the door.

--------------------------

Remy knocked again, frowning. Seth had been in there a while, he had heard the water come on twice as Seth had warmed the bath water up again. Remy wasn't particularly worried, it was just that Seth was acting very oddly. He'd eaten more than Gambit had ever seen a Siskan consume in one sitting and he feared that Seth would drop off in the heat of the bath. He had no idea if a Siskan could drown and wasn't eager to find out.

That and there was only one bathroom in this apartment. Remy'd had a couple of beers at supper and well, what went in had to come out eventually. He rapped again. "You okay in dere, cher?"

There was no response.

Remy twisted the door handle, surprised to find it locked. Why would Seth even bother? That in itself was alarming. It was a cheap lock and Remy had it open in seconds, slipping into the steam filled room.

Seth was lying back, his eyes closed in the picture of perfect calm. Remy knew better than to rely on the surface picture provided. One look revealed Seth's shine was a disaster. Gambit wasn't sure when he'd last seen so many colors shifting at once through a shine --- there was grey and black, a sign of anger and dismay. There was also the sickening dark brown of fear, something closer to terror actually. All of this tinged with a deep crimson of arousal, a red so deeply black Remy wasn't sure he'd ever seen that actual shade before.

_What's goin' on? _Remy thought to himself in perplexed horror. For the first time he was fearful of speaking aloud in Seth's presence, he wasn't sure what the young pilot's reaction would be if startled. _Is 'e breaking?_

**_/ No, I don't think so. He just needs to be used, and soon, _**Shi'ow-ri answered, her best guess. **_/ Fallen is neglecting him. /_**

Gambit wasn't so sure. Seth hadn't said anything to suggest he was having any more trouble with his Mistress and the two of them seemed happy enough the last time they had resolved their differences. On the other hand, Remy had never seen a creature more in need of a good blinding climax. Seth looked fit to bust.

_Dat's Fallen's responsibility, not mine,_ Remy thought, not even ready to go there.

He did however, need to address the problem in some way. He took a breath and released a slow steady vibration of peace and calm, hoping to reach out and get Seth's attention without startling him.

Seth's shine reacted immediately. The red shifted, becoming less dark and brightening into something more normal. One eye opened slightly. "Fallen?"

"Non, fils. It's jus' me. You okay? Don' want you droppin' off in 'ere and drownin'."

Seth shifted, sitting up a bit higher. "I wasn't asleep."

"You didn't 'ear me knockin'?" Remy asked, settling down on the toilet to sit. As Seth had shifted, his knees had come up out of the water and Gambit was a bit startled to see that the pilot was dressed. He had to check himself and remember that of all the Siskans walking around this place, Seth was the only one who could still form clothes as part of his skin. Seth was in fact naked all the time in a way, he chose to cover his nudity for the sake of the humans around him. Still, it was odd to see a man in pants sitting in the tub.

"I guess I was just thinking too hard. I didn't hear you. Sorry," Seth stammered, his voice contrite but his shine still flashing anger. That dark line of brown fear was still there as well.

"You okay? You look a little on edge."

"I'm fine."

The dark spike of anger showed otherwise. "You lie no better dan Kim, fils."

Seth looked up at him, his eyes flashing resentment at not being listened to, and yet there was a vibration of yearning that had jumped out. Seth wanted to talk, he just wasn't sure what to say.

Remy stretched his legs out, getting comfortable. It was important to give off an air of relaxation when around such a nervous and jumpy 'gram, he had learned that much from Kimble. He also had a feeling he might be here a while. Seth was clearly unhappy. "You upset about what went on today?"

Seth shivered and looked away, the action itself an answer in agreement. "Jael's getting closer."

"You've got nuthin' to fear. 'E ain't gettin' in here."

Seth smiled a grimace of pain as he spoke, "Do you remember what the Games Master said when he was fixing Kimble? When he looked at me?"

"Non, dat was a long time ago."

Almost eight years had gone by since Remy brought a novice Games Master to Westchester to try and integrate Kimble's poor shattered mind. Darken had been less than pleasant, sharing nuggets of information with the cool air of the untouchable. There had been good news and bad. Kimble could be partially repaired, but since Fallen had separated the codes, sharing them between both Kimble and Seth, Kimble couldn't be fully restored. It was the excuse given for Kimble's continued unpredictability and off moods.

With all of that going on, Remy hadn't considered what the affect of that separation might be on Seth. Why would he? The young pilot had always seemed so stable and secure. It was only lately that Seth was acting so strangely.

Seth drew a shaky breath and said, "He said, 'Don't blame me when someone comes here looking for a Channeler and finds a fake. Hope that little guy doesn't mean that much to you. He probably won't make it once he's found out'."

Remy shivered at that, reminded instantly by Seth's computer perfect recall. Yes, he remembered now those words, but no one had considered the importance of Darken's statement at the time. Well, nobody but Seth anyway. "Nobody's gonna let Jael touch you. Dat's a promise dat ain't never gonna be broken."

Light blue eyes flashed at him with – anger? Exasperation? "Am I worth it? Am I worth all your lives? I don't think so."

Gambit's eyes opened wide at that. This was a conversation he expected to be having one level up at Aiden's, one with Seth's big brother. Oddly enough, Kimble had been relatively passive considering the nature of the strike. It had to be because this time Kimble had the support of a true lover shoring him up. Seth was on his own, at least for the moment. Remy was never more hopeful for Fallen's quick return than now. But until she was here, Seth was his to deal with. "Of course you wort' it. Why would you ever doubt dat, mon petite fils?"

Seth smiled lightly at the endearment, such words had always filled him with happiness, but he was still so afraid. "Because I am only one person. Kimble, Aiden, Babette... we are only four. Four lives can never be worth the hundreds that would sacrifice themselves for us."

Remy raised a finger in argument. "Espe're, Set', just one minute. You fo'get, dis ain't even about you. Dis all about principle. What give Jael de right to stir up trouble in de firs' place? 'E kill t'ousands in New York even b'fore today. Should dat go unanswered? I don' t'ink so. Don' t'ink you gonna find a single X-man dat's gonna say yes to dat, fils."

Seth considered that, not meeting Remy's eyes. A single tear dripped out. "I don't want anyone to die because of me. I couldn't bear it."

A lot less histrionics, but the same sentiment as Kimble just the same. Remy sat up and reached out, placing his fingers on Seth's knee. "Nobody's gonna die, cher. Don't you worry."

Seth was smarter than Kimble and Remy realized his mistake a little too late as Seth answered, "They already have. I heard that as many as twenty died just today." The young pilot's voice was sharp and that brown black was swirling through his shine again.

_Dis like playin' chess with one of dem Russian guys, 'e too damn smart,_ Remy complained inwardly. He gathered his thoughts, ordered his mind and tossed out, "Dey didn' die for you, fils. Dey died as X-men protectin' mutants, protectin' lots of folks. Dis isn't about jus' you guys. What you t'ink gonna 'appen if Jael succeed? 'E gonna take dis world an' trash it, just like any other fucked up dictator dat ever walk de Eart'. Dis problem larger dan you, comprenez?"

Seth shuddered and covered his face, finally breaking down. Remy had won this round. "It's not fair!"

"No it's not," Gambit agreed, coming off his seat to kneel next to the bath. He pulled Seth into his arms, sloshing water without a care. "But it's life and we gotta deal wit' it. You ain't alone. Don' ever t'ink dat, d'accorde?"

Seth nodded, but he was sobbing now. "I want to go home! I want my Mistress!"

Remy squeezed him tighter, getting an answer to at least one of his questions -- Seth and Fallen were on solid ground. Whatever was ailing this Siskan, it wasn't coming from Fallen. "You gotta wait 'til she come back. It ain't no good, you bein' alone. You should try gettin' some sleep."

"No. No sleep!" Seth blurted out, shivering off real fear. He wanted no more bad dreams.

Remy felt that. "You want me to give you sumptin'? I always got some of 'Enry's drinks 'ere."

"Okay," Seth answered quickly, wanting the oblivion one of Henry's tonics would bring. He didn't use them when Fallen was around, she would ask too many questions, but he wasn't going to refuse Remy's kind offer.

"Bien," Remy said with relief. This could have been worse, he thought, looking back on some of Kimble's tantrums. He had never seen Seth heave his guts out like Kimble did and never wanted to. He helped Seth to his feet, handing him a towel. Seth dried off while Remy rummaged in his bathroom closet, digging through bottles of cough medicine and aspirin until he found what he was looking for. He found a small bottle and had Seth drink it, happy that he was getting no argument.

Between the food, hot water, and the tonic, Seth was undone quickly. He barely had time to shuffle out of the bathroom before he started to sway on his feet. Remy dumped him into Angel's bed, smiling when he saw the young pilot's shine blur to a nice blue silver, a sign of contentment. All that junk was gone and the kid was out cold before the blankets were even tucked around him. Remy finished covering him up and retreated, closing the door partway. He wanted to hear if Seth should wake unexpectedly.

As he backed out, Gambit almost bumped into Angel who had been hovering over the whole proceedings the moment they had come out of the bathroom. " 'Ey, petite. You too small to be blockin' de 'allway. Gonna get squished."

"What's wrong with Uncle Seth?" she asked directly, a stern look in her eyes saying she wasn't going to go away until her question was answered.

" 'E's okay. 'E jus' get upset like yo' daddy get sometimes."

"Daddy's not upset," she said innocently.

Remy smiled, grateful for the bond she shared with her father. She had confirmed his own guess, that Kimble was much more stable with Aiden around. "Dat's good to know. Set' jus' needs some rest. You, too. It's late."

"I'm not tired."

"Well, den mebbe you lie down wit me an' Molly, mebbe read a book?"

"Okay."

They backed away from the sleeping Siskan, Remy looking back on him just once. Seth was out cold and happy, Remy had gotten off easy this time. All he wanted was Seth to be happy and well, just as he did for all of his Siskan charges. They all deserved it, Kimble more than most as far as he was concerned. He only hoped they would be given a chance.

-------------------------

One level up, the subject of some of Remy's thoughts lay deeply asleep, the soft grumble of his snores music to the one who watched over him. Aiden gently brushed his fingers through the long thick ponytail of Kimble's hair, his pale green eyes gleaming with nothing other than the deepest love. Kimble looked so happy as he lay asleep, his shine glittering brightly with happiness.

Yes, this day had been a trying one, but Aiden had worked diligently to keep the worst of it from touching his precious charges. He had ordered them sodas, pizza and cake from the Bistro's most excellent delivery service. The three of them had gorged on food and then played hard, Aiden conducting over all of it as any protective Master should.

Babette had been fairly secluded so she hadn't been as upset by the strikes as Kimble had. It didn't keep her from seeing that Kimble's distress was seen to. She and Aiden had worked skillfully as a team and after a heavy round of play, Kimble had soon put the worst of the day behind him. He knew Angel was safe for the moment, that thought alone made this easy. A direct attack on this Complex would have been a much different matter altogether. Kimble willingly let himself be pampered and let his companions rule him. The threesome had loved themselves to exhaustion, only Aiden now remained awake, and then only after the briefest of naps.

Aiden smiled down on his lover, still sifting his hand through that long soft hair. Everything about Kimble was a pleasure to touch, he would never get enough. The world could crash down around them, but as long as this precious creature was still within reach, Aiden could survive it.

Kimble shifted in his sleep, sensing Aiden's love vibrations, and came that much closer, nuzzling his chin against Aiden's chest. Aiden closed his eyes, shivering a little from the return of affection, and couldn't stop the drift of Morrowhiem that shimmered off of his skin. What he was feeling was simply too powerful.

Kimble laughed dreamily without opening his eyes and mumbled, "Goes ta sleeps, Dreamer. Saves it fer later."

Aiden grumbled assent and closed his eyes. He wasn't sleepy and he wasn't aroused, it hadn't been play on his mind, but that was all right. He held Kimble that much tighter and drifted off, his mind easy.

-----------------------------------

An hour later, Remy lay propped up on his large bed, cramped, but content. Molly lay beside him, leaning her body against him with pleasant familiarity. It was getting late now and she was asleep with Angel curled up in her arms, adding to the comfortable weight against him. They were all snuggled up in thick warm blankets and more than cozy.

Gambit had his laptop out. Bored now and with time to kill, he was once more studying what Aiden had written. He had picked up where he left off before -- Young Talalanay had snuck into Quishnalay's private areas and was drawn deeper in by screams from the young girl he'd come to know as Kimble. Coming to her rescue, he'd been confronted instead by another child, a poor broken Siskan named Mishnar. They had fought and Quishnalay came, breaking them up. Their Master had used a force so brutal and cruel, young Talalanay had fainted away at the sight of it. Here now, Aiden had written of what happened when Talalanay awoke next.

_When Talalanay woke up hours later, he was back in his room, tucked neatly into his bed._

_Sharak was there next to him in a chair, a pleasant surprise. "You've had quite a szcare, leetle one," he spoke in his soft, mangled Kintay voice._

"_What happened to me?" Talalanay wheezed, still a little disoriented and lost. He felt drained, a heavy debilitating feeling I've come to know all too well. Siskan Courtesans do not do well under such stress as you know. Have confidence, my dearest Kimble, that you are not the only one of us to ever hurl gel all over his feet. At this moment, Talalanay was barely hanging on._

_Sharek smiled, his body vibrating peace and comfort even as he gently scolded, "You went szomwhere you should have not. You muszt be careful, young Talalanay. Ze Maszter favorsz you, szomet'ing you can usze. Not all of uzs get to sztay, but szome of usz do. Dosze of usz dat do get nize roomsz, a good home. It isz not alwaysz szo nize out dere in ze real world, take advantage of what you 'ave 'ere. Don't make ze Maszter angry. He'sz szo in love wit' you, child. Don't do anyt'ing to losze dat."_

_Talalanay felt the truth of Sharek's words, felt his vibrations of genuine love and caring. It was true that even after all he had seen that Talalanay did still want to please the Master, to stay with him always._

_Quishnalay came in after a moment, smiling on Talalanay with such benevolence that Talalanay knew he must have dreamt the whole thing that had happened. He had hallucinated the screams he'd heard, the horrible violence that followed. Mishnar had never been, it was all some kind of bizarre nightmare. There was no way his kind and generous Master could ever have done the terrible things he had witnessed._

_The boy was naive. As The Dreamer, I look back at this with jaded eyes. Talalanay was used for his Master's personal gratification and nothing more. Quishnalay had never been capable of true love, only obsession, and a need to control and use. He had manipulated young Talalanay, twisted the poor child's mind to better enslave him and bend him towards his will. _

_Talalanay was never kept separate as a real lover would have been. No, Talalanay was given to Quishnalay's clients to use as a sample of what he could create, a walking advertisement of his skill. Talalanay made his Master money that was never shared. If Quishnalay had truly loved Talalanay, he would not have done what he did. He would never have given Talalanay to the Muzla._

_Talalanay saw none of this of course. He recovered from his terrible fright and went back to work in the pleasure houses, all smiles and laughter. He relished his job, served his Master's clients, and took to his studies quickly. He thrived under Quishnalay's artificial love and grew to be everything Quishnalay desired him to be. Talalanay grew to be a master of the Kundatesh and his Master's most valuable possession. He was one of the last of the clutch to leave and had lingered the longest there. It didn't last forever._

_Before I go on to that, I must say that while that was the last Talalanay saw of Kimble, it was not the last Talalanay saw of Mishnar. Talalanay kept trying to sneak back there to discover Kimble's fate, but the Master had been clever enough to place more locks and kept Talalanay out._

_It didn't keep Mishnar in, however._

_Mishnar was a clever little 'gram and had so enjoyed the merry little chase he'd had with Talalanay. He was a predator and I'll just bet he still is somewhere, terrorizing his prey wherever he might find it._

_Mishnar was clever and wily in many ways. He had slipped past the Master's locks and snuck about the grounds, searching the grounds until he found Talalanay reading out in one of the Master's gardens._

_Talalanay looked up from his book, his eyes growing wide at the sight of ragged little Mishnar coming over with his ripped up, filthy clothes and dirty knees. So much for telling himself he had imagined the whole thing. Here now was living proof that all he had fruitlessly tried to deny had been real. Talalanay squeaked in fear and took off, running. He was caught in a flash, Mishnar was far stronger than he appeared to be. "Wheres ya goin', little sneaker? Ain'tcha happy ta sees me?"_

"_Let me go!"_

"_Sorry bout yer little girlfriend," Mishnar teased, his voice deep and raspy. "I'm shure she wuz real nice 'til the Master gots his hands on 'er. Too bad, she wuz kinda pretty an' all."_

"_Go away!" Talalanay snarled, not wanting to hear Mishnar's lies or his truths. He freed himself, but it was only for a moment. _

_Mishnar was crazy fast, lightening quick. His dirty little hands found Talalanay again in a flash and jerked him close, bringing him near as he said, "You thinks yer Master is so great? Course ya do. He's only ever been nice to you, his little favorite. Tell me, does he shiver real hard when he gots his big fat cock in yer pathetic little ass?"_

_Talalanay twisted, fists flying. He managed to sock Mishnar on the nose, bringing blood. He broke free, but again, it was only for a moment. Mishnar snagged him a second later, bringing him up close again with a deranged leer. Talalanay watched in numb horror as the blood from Mishnar's nose stopped leaking out and the injury miraculously healed itself -- this Rogue could be repaired without the cubes. Tears of terror sprang to Talalanay's eyes and he started to sob. "Let me go!"_

"_Why? Dont'cha wants to hear about yer little baby doll? Yer precious little girl? I knows all abouts it, so I do."_

_Talalanay shivered. He was afraid, but had to admit that he was burning for any scrap of information on Kimble. There was no way he could ask the Master and knew it. "Wh-what happened to her?"_

"_Well, yer great an' perfect Master sold yer Kimble off to some crazy guy what cain't even speak. Course he only done that after he melted her a coupla times. Made her as fucked up as me!"_

_Talalanay reeled in horror. What he was being told was impossible, but some small part of him knew otherwise. Mishnar's shine was a complete mess, but it spoke the truth. Talalanay recalled the way Quishnalay smelled on that day of screams, that odor of melted plastic. Talalanay had burned himself once on the stove, learning how to cook. Hadn't it smelled that way? Of course it had. His stomach heaved and he had to swallow hard to stop from vomiting._

"_You seen me heal up. Those of us what wuz melted kin charge up from the sun. We kin heals, an' then what? The Master kin hurts us over an' over, then do it all over again. I knows cuz he's done it ta me, over an' over again. He done it ta me, he done it ta Kimble, an' if yous ain't careful, he's gonner do it to you, too!"_

Remy paused here, blinking in surprise. Wait a minute. Since when was Kimble melted by Quishnalay? Kimble had been melted only once and then after he'd been Fallen's possession. When Remy had brought the Games Master Darken to see Kimble for reintegration, Darken had said that Kimble suffered from a personality disorder caused by being broken by the Clan and later having been melted once from a plasma overload. That was it. If Kimble had been melted more than that he would have said so...right?

Grumbling now with aggravation, Remy read on.

"_You liar!" Talalanay howled in outrage. If this was some kind of joke, it wasn't close to being funny._

"_Why do ya thinks me an Kim talks the same?" Mishnar snarled in reply. "It's cuz of what the Master done to us! You seen Sharek. Just asks him why he talks all screwed up, too. I dares ya. The Master fucks with every one of us sooner or later!"_

_Talalanay didn't want to believe, but some part of him just knew he was being told the awful truth. With a great jerk he finally pulled himself free of Mishnar's grasp and fled back into the safety of the house. He didn't want to believe, but yet he never looked at the Master the same way again after that. Talalanay often wondered what had happened to little Kimble. He would never forget her perfect eyes and that beautiful drowning kiss. He worried what her life had become. This was something that did not fade over time, even through the worst. There was always a quiet moment where her face would come back to us, something for us grasp onto._

_That fear for her was only ever eased when at last, just a few days ago, I looked on you for myself. It pains me that you do not recall our first kiss, but all is forgiven. I saw your happy heart and heard from your own lips what a good Master your Sheyman had been. Remy has taken good care of you as well. It pleases me to know that there have been happy times in your life. You've had them before and I hope someday, that you might have them again... with me._


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

That last happy thought aside, Aiden's journal continued.

_Time moves on for Siskans as it does for normal humans. Life resumed its steady pace and routine blurred the lines of anything that might have remained from those troublesome times. One day as he lay in bed, Quishnalay and his precious little toy Talalanay, the Master had some bad news. A year had passed since young Talalanay was made, a long time for any Courtesan to stay in the home of his Master. Mishnar had been long gone and forgotten, though the memory of Kimble still lingered in Talalanay's dreams. She was gone, too, or so Mishnar had said. Not wanting to tempt fate any further, Talalanay didn't try to seek her out, he fell back into his routine and left things as they had been._

_That was about to change._

_The Master's bad news was wrapped in pretty paper as were all of Quishnalay's lies, we were later to learn. He was petting Talalanay, the love sweat still damp on their bodies when he said, "You have learned much, my little Talalanay. I think you have learned all you can here. I am going to send you away to a place where you can learn more."_

_Talalanay didn't quite understand what was going on. He was still lost in the bliss of their play. It had always been safe and warm here in the Master's bed full of thick blankets and deep pillows. Today Quishnalay had given him a new skin, that of a delightful young man, one the Master had been quite pleased to try out. The lovemaking had been so good._

"_Did you hear me?" the Master asked. He was annoyed that Talalanay had not immediately answered._

_Talalanay sensed his Master's ire and was quick to reply, "What else is there to learn, Master, that I cannot learn here?"_

"_You were meant for the world, Talalanay. It's time for you to see it."_

_This time young Talalanay shivered with real fear, instantly distressed at the thought of leaving his beloved Master. Already he could hear Mishnar's words about Quishnalay being less noble than he seemed. What trickery might this be?_

_Even now when I look back on this, I begin to tremble with anger. The betrayal was so complete. Quishnalay had held onto Talalanay the longest, loving him most as much as he loved anything I guess. The bond between them had become so strong, at least as far as Talalanay was concerned. The Master may have wanted to ease that bond some, but it doesn't excuse what he did to us. He still sent us away and he did it for money. **For money!** _

_Forever I shall hate money and all the trappings of wealth. It corrupts absolutely the hearts of all **Chuckfet.** Even my former Master, the mighty king Trishnar, had some weakness of this. I will say Trishnar treated us well, lavished all sorts of gifts and toys on us, but he still saw us as possessions, as objects to be owned and used. It separated my heart from his, kept me from giving myself over completely. There has never been another to fully possess my heart since Quishnalay and I think there never will be again._

Remy paused here, reflecting on what Aiden had just said. It made sense. Aiden was a powerful 'gram, yet hadn't even tried to come to Trishnar's defense against Jael. No, he took what was most valuable to him and fled, something that actually was contrary to his programming. He grabbed Babette, would have taken David if he could have, and went to another place of shelter. Yet even here at this new place, Aiden had not given himself to anyone. No one was Master. No one owned Aiden here, it seemed he had achieved true freedom at last. It looked as though Aiden had earned it, it didn't seem as though there were going to be many happy endings in this tale.

_Trembling next to his Master in his bed, Talalanay didn't know what to say. That was okay, like any true and callused **Chuckfet,** Quishnalay simply rambled on all by himself. "There is so much in this world to explore and see. The world is a great big place and you'll enjoy it so much. I wish I could go with you of course, but there is so much here to be done."_

"_I don't wish to leave, Master!" Talalanay finally squeaked. "Don't send me away!"_

"_I must. All your brothers and sisters are gone, you are all that remain. I have kept you here too long, my love for you is so great. But there is so much more out there for you to see and experience. You'll have so much fun, my dearest child. Such great fun."_

Remy was forced to pause here, Seth had broken into the narrative, adding some notes. _(When I read this, I could see that in the bindings of the notebook that some great damage had been done. Some pages were missing, torn out, leaving ragged scraps in the binding. On the page that followed were deep grooved indentations — Aiden had scribbled something here with such fury, it had damaged the paper at least three pages down. S.)_

The thief scowled, his mind racing. What had Aiden written? He guessed it was something so ugly he'd later chosen not to share it. Yes, this was so. The next entry was dated a couple days later.

_My apologies, my fury got the best of me and I let something escape, something regrettable. I really do try to control my anger, but it's so hard. I will confess this, I spent the last couple of days as drunk as possible and frolicking in the arms of my sister, the only cure I know for such a fury. It's true that when I am at my worst Babette is at her best. She always knows what to say and do to make me feel better. I don't know what I would ever do without her._

_So back to my tale. _

_Talalanay was left to ponder his fate for a couple of days. No clues were given, it was as if Quishnalay's words had never been spoken. Then one day, Talalanay was abruptly packed up and prepared for departure. He was not told where he would be going or for how long. He began to suspect the worst when his escort finally arrived. A Dognan solider had_ _come and words were spoken to Quishnalay, things said in private. What did happen out in the open was that a large bag of money was passed. _

_Talalanay understood the concept of money. He'd often been sent to service clients that Quishnalay held in some high regard. Coins were passed for this courtesy, coins he brought back to his Master. He'd watched later as those coins were used to buy food and clothes, staples for the house. It was always in the back of his mind, but it hadn't escaped his notice how he was the one who earned these coins, yet it was the Master who spent them. Content with what he had, Talalanay never questioned this, but much later the reality of slavery would become painfully apparent._

_The Dognan soldier who passed this large bag of money to Quishnalay now came to collect him. Talalanay tried to tell himself that while that bag of money might mean an extended stay with a client, surely it wouldn't be something more permanent. Still, he could not shake a terrible sense of unease. _

_He had all the reason to fear._

_The soldier took him from his Master's house and on board a waiting ship. Talalanay couldn't help but be terribly excited in spite of his fears. He'd never gone far from his Master's house, certainly never away from the castle itself. On the ship was Siskan equipment, a machine designed to put Siskan Courtesans into hypersleep, a sort of suspended animation that keeps us immobile. "You have a long way to travel," the soldier explained. "Do not be afraid."_

_The sleeping process is not painful and was necessary for extended space travel. This officer had no pilots to spare in feeding Talalanay, nor any means to keep such a childish and active mind amused, so Talalanay was reduced to the birth state – stars within a block of gel with a plasma battery connected to keep the drives alive. _

_The drives stay alive and in stasis, but its tiny clock still counts the time. When Talalanay awoke next, the first thing he knew was that he'd spent over three months in travel._

Remy rubbed his eyes and yawned. It was getting late, but he wanted to keep going. He didn't know how much more time he was going to have to read. With all the happenings, there just wasn't that much time in the day, there would be meetings tomorrow, meetings and more meetings.

He wanted a drink and considered shifting out from under the pile of bodies littering his bed, the cat had added her pleasant weight to his feet as well, but didn't have the heart to wake anyone. There was no way he was going to get out of here without disturbing the peace. He took a breath and returned to his computer, his lips curling into a smile when he read what was there. This next entry was dated on a day he remembered well.

_It's finally happened, my lover. You and I together at last. You have no idea how long I had waited for that moment, all the dreaming, planning and scheming that was involved._

_I won't go into the details, you were there after all, my love, but there are some things I have to say. I am the coward, doing it here rather than with my mouth, but we all know how words betray me. I can never speak clearly what needs to be said, just another sign of my being a Kintay perhaps, a scar worse than my voice._

_Your body is the perfect compliment to mine, it has been a pleasure to know it inside and out, knowing the feel of it, the bright white sight of it. But your mind..._

_It's not your fault and I have forgiven you for what you did. How could you possibly know what pain means to me, how much of it I have felt in my long life. You have been wounded deeply by those who have had the audacity to claim to own you and so you suffer this horrible defect of the spirit. You allowed their torments because you feel you have to, have even grown to love them I fear, but there is another way. I will tell you of it, I will show you that you and the rest of us are far stronger than we appear. Your mind is a challenge and I will rein them in, all those pesky hurts. I love you deeply, I have from the moment we first met. That love has never dimmed, only grown. I understand now that that love shall come with a price, one I am willing to pay. I'll pay it for you, precious, any time. It has become my duty to correct the damage others have made and it's one I will accept completely. By the time you read this, you will know this for yourself. _

_Know me, Kimble. Know me and love me. You are about to read how I, the Dreamer, was born. Have courage, my precious. It is not for the faint of heart._

Remy frowned. Neither Kimble nor Aiden had discussed their love affair with him, though Remy knew of course that they had been intimate. He was disappointed that apparently some ugliness had occurred. Knowing Kimble as he did, he had an idea of what that ugliness might be.

He'd hoped that Aiden might help Kimble in that regard, that Aiden might get him out of the rut he'd gotten himself stuck into as far as the abuse went. Recalling that ugly bite on Kimble's shoulder, he guessed maybe that was something his pilot might struggle with for a long time. At least Aiden had gone no farther than that bite. There hadn't been anything since to suggest that their play had gotten any rougher.

"Kimble, don' you blow dis," Remy whispered softly, rubbing his eyes again. At least Aiden had promised to go the extra mile, he just hoped that Kimble wouldn't ask for another two or three that Aiden might not have.

Gambit returned to the diary.

_Talalanay was awakened by rough hands and new smells. Coming out of hypersleep is never easy or pleasant. There's a certain kind of womb like security that comes from so deep a sleep. We don't dream, the sleep is so deep. You come up through the black slowly, the return of sensory input almost painful. It's less than pleasant to finally awake and rejoin the living. It's jarring, disorienting. Not that Talalanay would have recognized where he now was, he was now very, very far from home._

_He woke to find himself in some kind of underground dwelling, a room that was little more than a cave. While the castles of Siska had been made from stone, this rocky dwelling was the furthest thing from a bright sandstone castle. It was damp and gloomy and reeked of animals and blood. _

_Talalanay was still in Quishnalay's favorite skin, that of a seven year old boy. It made him seem that much smaller since he was rough and tumbled on the floor, wrapped up in a rough woven blanket that had never seen soap or anything like it. Beside him lay a wooden box and a spent Ristle battery, the signs of his travel. At first he was upset to be alone, but when his new owners finally arrived to great him, he discovered there were worse things than a little solitude._

_He cried and cried with terror at the sight of them. The people here were large and furred. I have since seen pictures of Earthly bears and these man closely resemble those strange beasts. Talalanay had seen some Dognan men by this time, but the Dognan were civilized and clean, close enough to human that they were easily accepted. These new creatures were far away from them. Their hands were clawed and terrible, their mouths long muzzles with sharp angry teeth. Talalanay could only tremble with fear. _

_These men –-- if one could call them that –-- had come to inspect him. They wanted to hear him speak and so he was poked and prodded until he cried out like the chattel he was. They garbled at him in their strange language, but Talalanay understood none of it. That was about to change, he soon saw._

_After the crude inspection, Talalanay was grabbed and roughly hauled to another room. He soon saw that this was Giving Room of some sort, but the machine here wasn't as sophisticated as the fine Giving machine Quishnalay possessed though it served the same purpose. Talalanay screamed and tried to fight, hating the device and the forcing of knowledge, but his tiny body couldn't possibly hold back these creatures who were easily five times his weight._

_He was strapped to a table and a mechanical headdress placed on his head, he was now plugged into the machine. Then came the terrible shock as the instruction came. New words flooded his brain and he could speak the sounds of the ones around him. The Tranding Muzla they were, bringers of illegal games and the murders of innocence. _

"_You've done well, Polter," said one Muzla to the other as he admired their new acquisition. "You are learning fast, my young apprentice."_

"_Thank you, master. Is he indeed a Siskan Courtesan?"_

"_Yes, he is Siskan. See the Mark? This one is special as well. They don't come around often, but when they do, heh heh heh, they always fight well. The trick is in the breaking. Don't want too many pieces, yes." _

"_He is very pretty, Polter, but how will he fight? He looks so afraid. He won't last a minute." _

"_Just wait until he is broken and given a better skin. You have much to learn, but you take on quick, so you do."_

"_Let me lay with him first, master. He won't fuck so nice when he's ruined." _

_Oh, poor Talalanay cried then, yes he did. **Breaking, ruined**...what did those words mean?_

"_You there," Grunk said to the boy, poking him again. "You understand Master and what it means, little one?" _

"_T-to s-serve. I s-serve you now," Talalanay answered in his tiny child's voice._

"_See, Polter. I told you they take on quick." _

_Talalanay was unstrapped from the table and dumped onto the floor Not a second passed and he was shoved down, Polter taking him roughly and without so much as a loving touch or an instruction on what was desired. No time was given to him to change skins, no this monster wanted him as a child and so it was done._

_Never had Talalanay been forced like that, like he was nothing. He was given no time to prepare, no time to practice his art. The year he had spent in training and practice meant nothing now. There was only the ground and the smell of gel blood hitting the floor as the poor boy was ripped open without a care. It was a bright white shock to be taken like that. It was hurtful and cruel, not one loving touch or sense of grace. It was a forced entry, harsh and damaging, the poor boy howled and bled, his cries only adding to the enjoyment of his user._

Remy minimized the file and rubbed his eyes. It didn't stop the tears. He startled when he felt the warm hands of his wife touch him and the soft low growl she made.

"Je suis bien, mon chere. I'm okay," he whispered.

Molly did not believe. She might not be an empath like her husband, but she knew him well enough to sense his change in mood. She wiggled closer and opened her arms, careful of Angel who was still sleeping so close. Remy went into her embrace gratefully and squeezed her, needing this. The story ripped at him from many different directions. He knew Aiden, loved him as he did all Siskans. He understood what rape meant to them, it was there in Kimble's eyes. It was what made Kimble want the pain, the suffering. It had changed him in a terrible way, one that was never undone.

**_What is this you are reading?_ **Molly asked, pawing at his elbow.

"Some work I got from Set'. You keep quiet 'bout dis, Wolvie don' want Gambit to 'ave it."

**_It's about Aiden, isn't it? That's why you are sad._**

"Nuthin' gets past you, chere. Yeah, it's Aiden's diary. He talkin' 'bout de beginnin' of 'im and about de Game. De Siskans, dey all suffer a terrible cruelty, each and every one. It's 'ard, but dis gonna 'elp me wit Kimble an' wit Aiden, too. Gonna get an understandin' of 'im. Lord knows I could use it, 'e a tough cracker, dat one."

**_You want me to stay? I was going to put Angel in her own bed with Seth, but it can wait._**

Remy smiled, he couldn't help it. She was so wonderful, his everything. "Oui, chere. Dat would be real fine," he replied, moving a little bit to give her some more room. She settled in next to him with her comforting vibrations and was quiet, giving him space and the support of her presence. Gambit kissed the top of her head and went back to the journal.

_My dearest Kimble, this is the last of Talalanay. He truly died the day he was taken from Siska. I saw in your eyes the sadness of your own terrible breaking. I knew the cause of it. The Kundatesh saw it. It smelled it. You didn't have to say a word. It's not a breaking so much as a shattering, a forceful understanding that you are nothing, you will never belong to yourself. Your life can be taken by others on their whim, it has no value. Even the word slave is too good for us, for what we really are. We are a glass of water, an article of clothing that will be discarded once it has been worn too long. We will never be alive. Oh, Kimble. For this my own heart breaks. _

_I know there are **Chuckfet **out there that say they can sympathize with our plight, your Remy in particular, but they can never know what it is like to be one of us. When I serve a client, when I served even your precious thief, I heard his heart beating in my head and I shivered from the heat of his body. These things he can never truly relate to, that those things I will never possess. None of us ever will. We weep from a place he can never understand._

Remy closed his eyes, trying to swallow the anger. _Gambit understand jus' fine, connard!_ he spat towards an internal visage of the Dreamer. _Why you always doubtin' me? Damn! What Gambit gotta do to earn yo' heart?_

Molly tapped him. **_You okay?_**

"Oui, chere. Jus' Aiden makin' t'ings 'ard for me."

_**Maybe you should put that down for now, it's late.**_

He smiled at her, begging for patience. "Jus' a little more. dere's a lot left to go an' I don' know 'ow much time 'm gonna have to read it."

_**Okay, but I'm right here if you need me.**_

"Merci, chere," he replied, giving her a kiss. He wondered if she knew how grateful he was to have her. It was a feeling to great for him to ever express with mere words.

She laughed softly as if to say, _You silly boy, Of course I know._ And let him be.

Remy didn't get far. He read this and had to stop.

_You want to break a Siskan? It's really not that hard if you think about it. _

_An empathic 'gram, a Lushna-esk? Even easier. They beat Talalanay down, a child in the body of a man, nothing more than an innocent that found himself in a nightmare. They whipped him, raped him, smashed him against a wall. They fed him with the cubes and then did it all over again._

_Talalanay, how he shivered and cried. He broke all right, just not they way the way they wanted. Sheema came first, the Afraid. After her, there was Hanlan, the Silent._

_It's hard to describe this with any accuracy. I've spoken to and seen others that have been broken, but never another that was damaged to the same degree as myself. The breaking was so shocking and violent, Talalanay did not hear the voices or become other people -- at least, not right away. No, it was a crowding of the room that happened, if you can understand. These others came as ghosts, standing in front of him and jabbering away like lunatics. It started out as two, then three, then even more much later on. For now, I shall introduce you to some, a few that mattered._

_Sheema was first, a wretched female who shivered and cried, a voice only Talalanay could hear. She came after the second horrific beating as he lay in misery, dripping gel blood to the floor. The Muzla had wanted him to suffer a bit and so delayed his repair for just a short while. As he lay in misery, Talalanay saw a strange mist appear and then form into the body of a tiny female child, one who looked oddly familiar. She possessed Kimble's skin, the one he'd first seen her in._

_Talalanay at first thought the Muzla had brought someone here to be tortured alongside him, but it didn't take long for him to realize that the only one who knew she was there was himself. She wasn't beaten or even spoken to by them when they returned to repair him. When they began to abuse him again, she reacted with terrible weeping to what was being done to his own body. Sheema terrified poor Talalanay worse than the beating. What was happening to him?_

_He didn't get to ponder that long. Hanlan came next, more frightening than Sheema since he was strong enough to dislodge poor Talalanay, the first true act of personality separation we were to suffer._

_Hanlan was a scary fellow, looking like some kind of grey haired scarecrow. At first he just swirled around the body, gesturing wildly into Talalanay's face, trying to tell the boy something he couldn't quite express. He stayed close as Sheema had done, scaring the boy half to death. How could Talalanay cope with both a beating and now all these ghosts all at once? He turned away, refusing to accept what was happening._

_Hanlan wanted more than just the air around Talalanay's body -- Talalanay wasn't listening to him and Hanlan grew angry. It wasn't long before this ghost was bold enough to step into Talalanay's body itself, wresting control of it finally and booting Talalanay's personality out to become a ghost as he had been. They had traded places. _

_What could be more disorienting than this? First you're in control and then suddenly you are not? Someone else now possesses your body, doing with it what they please, and you can do nothing to stop it._

_As upsetting as this was, it was ultimately an act of mercy. As a ghost, Talalanay no longer felt physical pain. Hanlan had taken Talalanay's body. It wasn't to his advantage, Hanlan then suffered the pain of every beating that followed. But unlike Talalanaly, Hanlan was much stronger in spirit. He defiantly refused to cry and wail for his Masters. This of course took all the fun out of the process for the Tranding Muzla, really._

"_He won't fight, Grunk!" one of his Masters complained to the other._

_Grunk just smiled. "Worry not. We'll just melt him." _

Remy shivered and Molly touched him lightly again. Questioning him once more. This time Gambit got up to pace, he had to. Princess complained about his departure, meowing loudly, but then merrily took over his warm spot by the pillows.

Molly watched her husband, saying nothing. The pain was coming off of him in waves and she could feel it. She almost grunted at him in comfort but then he walked over to the phone and dialed quickly. It was very late but he had a feeling Aiden would still be up.

" 'Allo?" came the answer, confirming Remy's guess.

"Bonjour, Aiden. It's me."

"Remy? 'Ow nicze." There was a pause and then Aiden spoke in Siskan. **_"Szumptin' on your mind, eh? Aiden can feel your pain, me. Keemble isz all right." _**

"_**Non, dis ain't about Kim. I–I was just wonderin' 'ow you was doin', you know? It's been a bad day fo' everyone." **_

"_**Heh, you a szilly boy. You lie no good, eh? Dat'sz all right, Aiden luv ze szound of you voicze. You can call anytime, 'e care not ze reaszon. Aiden isz okay. Keemble isz okay. Keemble, 'e play szo 'ard, 'e deep aszleep wit 'isz sziszter. All isz well."**_

Remy was silent. He really had nothing to say, there was no reason for his call. He just had to hear Aiden's voice and get some sense of the here and now.

The Dreamer chuckled at him. **_"Aiden wasz right about you, you luv 'im jusz' a leettle, non? Dat'sz good, yesz. Aiden feelsz disz. He knowsz, Remy. He knowsz. It'sz okay, you don' wanna szay it. You szpeak ze Sziszkan, your Misztressz isz dere? Dat'sz all right. You can szleep now." _**

"**_Meet me for lunch tomorrow,_** s'il vous plait. **_I will arrange it," _**Remy blurted out before his brain had even found the words. He had to see Aiden, had to see for himself that the kid was okay. It didn't matter that all the things he'd read had happened long ago and that he'd only seen Aiden hours earlier. He had to see Aiden with his own eyes.

"_**Aiden got not'ing on 'isz agenda. Zey szay don' go to work, got no other placze to be. Sure."**_

"_**All right. Gambit will come get you." **_

Aiden just laughed. **_"Yesz. Mebbe we take my bodyguard, too? 'E szo 'ungry guardin' Aiden'sz door." _**

"**_De fool can fend fo' his'self,"_** Remy laughed, feeling better at Aiden's joke. **_"Good night."_**

" '_**Night." **_

Aiden hung up and Remy stood there, lost. He looked at Molly who was watching him now.

**_Maybe you shouldn't read any more tonight, love, _**she signed, the worry creasing her brow.

"Gambit's gotta do dis, it just...hurts."

_**Then stay next to me. I won't go to bed without you.**_

Gambit nodded slowly but startled when he heard a knock on the front door. He left the room to answer it and found a sleepy eyed Fallen standing at his door. She had returned from bringing the wounded and was clearly exhausted. "They said Seth was here."

"Oui, chere. He's out cold in Angel's room."

"I'll go get him," she said, moving that way.

"Why don' you just crash here? You look a little tired y'self."

She paused and looked at him, a smile on her face at his offer. He could see the soot in her hair and smell things that had been destroyed. "No, thanks. I think I'd rather just be home, if you don't mind."

"Dat bad, huh?"

"Yeah. We lost twenty two today, all told. Fifteen more came back wounded. I never thought I'd be up and around carrying the dead. Seth better get his ship built soon. I could use a break."

Remy startled at that. "What? You ain't gonna fly it?"

Fallen smiled at him, knowing the answer but not willing to give up Seth's surprise. "I'm not the only one who can fly a ship, I'm just the most experienced. I guess I'll be teaching a class of my own soon."

Remy laughed softly at that and escorted her to Angel's room. He watched as she peeked in on Seth, but stepped back when she glanced back at him in disapproval. She had never agreed with how both Remy and Henry went through so many tonics around Seth. "You doped him up."

Gambit was defensive, but not argumentative, Fallen hadn't been here, she really didn't know how upset Seth had been, so there was no point in fighting over it. " 'E was upset. Dis wasn't a good day fo' anybody."

She nodded and chose not to argue herself. She found Seth's glasses folded neatly next to the bed and tucked them into a pocket, knowing he was going to be too out of it to remember them. She then gave Seth a gentle nudge, but he moaned softly in protest, too groggy to even move. Fortunately, Fallen had many talents. She used her telekinetic ability to carefully lift her charge from the bed and turned, back to, and hefted him onto her back, piggy back. Seth obeyed automatically, scrunching up tight and wrapping his legs around her waist and gripping her shoulders.

Remy smiled, having seen her do this before. It looked a bit odd -- Seth was larger than she was in appearance and a good twenty pounds heavier than her own weight. It didn't matter, her telekinesis made it possible for her to carry him easily without even feeling his weight at all.

"Thanks for looking after him," Fallen said, heading for the door.

"No problem, chere." Remy followed her, opening the front door. "P'etetre, when 'e wake up, de two of you talk some, eh? 'E was pretty scared. 'E miss you."

Fallen looked back at him, a sense of pride making her resent the remark, it was like an accusation of neglect, but it was hard to escape the thought that Remy was only looking out for Seth. "All right. Later."

"Wait up a minute," Remy found himself saying. He was going to let this go, but had changed his mind. "You know what's buggin' 'im, chere? 'E ain't been right for a while."

Fallen hesitated. She didn't really have the answer to his question though she was more than aware of the problem. Seth's libido had gone into overdrive, he was cranky and irritable, he was eating like crazy. These were sudden changes she had no explanation for. "I'm sure he'll be fine," she gave as a non-answer answer, just wanting to avoid discussing this and get home. "Good night."

Remy accepted her response as a need for privacy and let her go for now. He shut the door and stood there a minute, thinking much too hard. There was no way he was going to let this go forever, he was much too close to Seth to se him suffer with this for much longer. What was bugging Seth? Was it just this day or something more? Man, his brain hurt. He was ready to sleep.

Molly's soft woof from the bedroom door got him moving. He went to his own Mistress and helped her ease Angel's body out of the bed and into the warm spot Seth had left behind in her own. He kissed her gently and smoothed the blankets over her, hoping only for peace.


	5. Chapter 5

(Five)

Remy wasn't the only one with a lot on his mind that night. Butch Madison, leader of the Outkasts, stood at his big bedroom window, fuming with anger.

He'd spent a whirlwind few days in pure glory with Cheeree, the Siskan Courtesan Terrel had brought him. Terrel had rescued her from Jael's evil clutches and brought her here for Butch to enjoy. It hadn't taken Butch long to grown quite enamored of her and there were no words to describe what she had become to him. No woman had ever affected him like this. This was well beyond earth shattering, mind blowing sex. He'd tried his best to fight it, but it was a battle lost, his heart was gone, he was officially off the market now and forever. He was in love for possibly the first time in his long life.

That new love had made his anger all the more powerful. Along with completely redefining what he thought sex had been or what it was meant to be, she had told him of herself. Her life story was something out of this world -- literally.

Cheeree had told Butch of how she was made on the strange world of Siska and of her Creator Quishnalay. Butch now understood that Cheeree was not alive in the organic sense, she was a Courtesan, a hologram of the highest quality who was meant to serve clients and become a part of a household. She had been Marked and trained in the ways of Courtesanship, she was shown to be good and kind and compliant in all things.

Unlike Talalanay, Cheeree had been passed on early and sold to a Siskan Master of some means. She didn't stay in his house long, Siskan humans were used to Courtesans in their lives, and didn't always keep them for extended periods of time. This Master was bored easily and soon had her sent off. She passed hands time and time again, moving down the totem pole of clients into the hands of men who cared for her less and less well.

Being moved around as was didn't mean she wasn't still playing her small role in the Game. She was living in Timotinea, a Siskan colony, when she finally found her angel. Timotinea was a dive, all scrub houses and poor farming villages. She was taken in by a family with some spare change who bought her to brighten their home. Her new Master, the man of the house, was more drunk than sober. He played with her some, but then found her more useful doing his chores than for any sexual needs. The bottle held more entertainment than her. He often had her doing the shopping, a chore he disliked.

Off to the market Cheeree went, list in hand. She made to the shops okay, but was caught by surprise when her basket was stolen, ripped off her arm by an opportunistic thief. She gave chase, not wanting to be punished for the loss. She was no match for the thief however, he hid behind a refuse bin and grabbed her as she came by. One toss and he dumped her inside the bin, only adding to her humiliation. She flailed in the stinking mounds of trash, cursing him on behalf of every Great Spirit she could remember. She was still struggling to get out when her hand came upon something hard and metal in the garbage. She pulled it out and saw a set of golden rings, four in all, strung together on a chain of fine yet strong golden links. She had no idea how or why such pretty rings should be left in with the garbage but she kept them all the same. They were singing to her in some strange way, calling out to her, and she wasn't going to let them go.

Cheeree managed to free herself from the bin and as she stumbled home, thinking of excuses for the loss of the groceries, decided that the rings should be hers. They continued to sing to her, to hum in low easy tones, asking to be kept. They were her angel, an object she was destined to find by forces out of her control though she had no idea of this at the time. All she knew was that they would be kept secret and she would not turn them over to this Master. She was bound to have another Master after this fiasco no doubt, perhaps one that would be kinder. These rings would be going with her.

Back at her home, after the yelling was done over the lost groceries, she hid herself away and looked at her rings once more. Up close they still sung to her, but they did more. The rings were really clasps, bindings of some kind. They opened and closed on her mental command, a treat for such a childish mind. She vowed never to leave them behind.

The Master sold her a week later and so they were still in her care when finally Jael purchased her. She must have been his easiest acquisition. One of his many spies saw her for sale on the Market and paid the price asked. Courtesans were allowed some possessions from time to time as they were moved along and her rings were still hers, hidden away in some clothes she had managed to hang on to before leaving.

Jael wasted no time with his new find. He brought her to his home, searched through her things, took her rings by force and dumped her in the harem, just another trinket in his collection.

Cheeree was furious at the loss but helpless to stop it. The others in the harem embraced her gratefully and she took some comfort from them. They were her kin and she even recognized one of them from back when she was first made. They made her welcome and explained some of what her new situation was to be. Jael had taken all of their angels, all of their special objects. What he did with them the others didn't know, but on the other hand, they were treated well enough, and given plenty of clients to serve. Cheeree accepted her fate, taking comfort in the fact that she was no longer alone.

It wasn't until the last year that things got bad. Life had gone on as usual, but then they all sensed the change. Some of them had strange dreams, others just became uneasy for reasons they did not understand. Jael came less often and then one by one, members of the harem began to disappear. At first Cheeree thought perhaps Jael was simply selling them off like her other Masters had done. It was only by chance that she found out the truth.

Jael had summoned her to his room for a session of play and on the way, she saw something horrible. One of her sisters had been taken also, but was led off to the right taken by one of Jael's more vicious minions. That by itself was alarming, Jael only allowed his highest officers to use the harem. Cheeree watched her sister pass through the door and then saw a quick glimpse of her sister greeting someone. There was a bright flash of light and a scream. Cheeree never saw her sister again.

Cheeree was quick minded, she had never been a fool. She knew something had to be done or they might all perish. When Jael sent her along with Razel and the others to pick up Remy, she did her best to get her message sent to someone she hoped would listen and perhaps free them. Courtesans are more observant than their Masters often know. Word of Remy had been blazing through the harem as intelligence was overheard by those serving clients with big mouths. The words "Game" and "Rogue" were being said for the first time, along with some names -- Kimble and Gambit. The Courtesans were learning that their being brought together like this was no accident.

When Cheeree later found herself in Remy's presence she knew it had to be more than fate. She blurted out her message, but had no way of knowing if it was heard.

She was returned home and then nothing happened. Her attempt was in vain, there had been no magical rescue. She was lost in despair, her message had been lost. When she herself was led down to the killing room, she had given up all hope. It was only there that fate once more stepped in.

Butch's own spy, Terrel, had been on hand for Cheeree's scheduled destruction. He quickly paid off the "executioner" and spirited Cheeree away for himself. As she sputtered out her relief, Terrel got the idea he was better off handing Cheeree over to Butch than keeping her for himself and so now here she was his. His.

Most of Cheeree's story meant nothing to Butch, he had nothing to compare her offworld life with. But what had upset him so greatly was when she had told him there had been many such wondrous creatures like herself, treasures that Jael had slaughtered so thoughtlessly, destroyed because he was simply too lazy to care for them properly. Butch equated it to a Siskan holocaust and was already planning to see them avenged. Butch may have been a terrorist, but that didn't mean he was incapable of feeling something for someone. Her pain had become his. Jael would pay for his senseless waste.

Cheeree had told Butch not only about the destruction of her kin, but also of the Game. The murder of innocent Siskans was upsetting enough, but this was worse. The end result of the Game was clear, Jael intended to take over this planet and rule it. Butch was more than happy with the way things were in the world at this moment, thank you, he was not about to let an arrogant upstart like Jael mess around with it. This was becoming about territory as well, territory that needed to be defended.

Butch was more than capable of it, he had vast resources at his disposal, including spies at the Arizona Complex itself, people so imbedded into Xavier's Inner Circle, they were beyond suspicion. It was simply a matter of arranging these resources into something useful. He had dispatched another round of his best spies only that morning, placing most of them within sight of Xavier's new Complex. Butch knew of Jael's attacks on the Xavier Institutes earlier that evening and that Jael would probably strike there next. He wanted the Complex's borders watched and word given of any activity on Jael's part. It was Butch's decision to intercept Jael before he could do any damage, something that dumbass terrorist would never expect.

A soft noise from the bed caught Butch's attention. He looked across the room to see Cheeree shifting on his bed, her pale skin bright against the dark green of his sheets. She was magnificent and he would do anything for her, including avenging her kin. Hell, he'd do it for kicks, never mind putting Jael in his place.

"Are you well, Master?" she asked him sleepily, her eyes shining with adoration for him.

Butch would never get used to that. He'd had women fawn over him, sure. But that had always been about his money and his power. Cheeree cared for none of that. She was interested in him, in Butch Madison the human being. "Yeah, baby. I'm just fine."

"What are you thinking about?"

He moved closer to the bed and kissed her deeply. He was in love, her very touch set him on fire. She was perfect for him ways he didn't fully understand, but was willing to spend every last moment of his life trying to find out.

"I love you, Master," she whispered, her body trembling as a silvery tear of joy leaked from one eye. There was no doubt in her words.

With her in his arms, it was all the easier to act on his plans. Butch smiled at her, his eyes bright as he said, "I'm thinking about taking a trip. Have you ever been to Arizona?"

-----------------------------------------

It was early afternoon the next day when Remy knocked on Aiden's door. He smiled when Babette opened it to let him in. "Bonjour, chere. You look good today."

She truly did. Her shine was sparkling bright, losing some of that dull gray he hadn't liked. She was dressed in one of the dresses he had bought for her, he was happy to see. Her eyes were bright and playful. "Aiden, he waits for you."

Remy nodded and made his way to the tiny kitchen table, automatically moving to charge the Ristle cubes there for Babette. The small apartment was now a lot neater than it had been, Kimble's good housekeeping at work, no doubt. The pilot and his lover were both out of sight, but Gambit could hear soft giggling from the bathroom. The place was small enough for him to smell the shower though he guessed more than bathing might have taken place.

The door opened and Kimble tumbled out, squealing laughter, a bright and playful sound that did Remy's heart good to hear. The last time Jael had attacked with such devastation, Kimble had broken down. Remy could see that Aiden had gone a long way to prevent that from happening. The pilot was naked and dripping from the shower, but not quite fast enough to escape a wet towel that came out and smacked his ass. "Hey!" Kimble cried out, laughing, and touched his offended butt cheek. "That wuz cheatin'!"

"Of coursze it wasz, preciousz. Aiden knowsz no od'er way," the Dreamer answered, following Kimble out into the livingroom, just as naked as his lover had been. He immediately noted their guest and stood for a moment without shame, flexing his muscles like an exhibitionist and preening for Remy just for kicks.

"Wastin' yo' time, buddy," Gambit chided with good humor. "We gonna be late."

"Late fer what?" Kimble asked, a flicker of jealousy in his shine. Apparently Aiden had neglected to inform him of today's plans.

"Remy promisze Aiden lunch," Aiden replied, tossing his towel to Kimble for his hair.

Kimble took it and scrubbed it through his long dripping locks. "We all goin'?"

"Non. You an' Babette sztay 'ere, finish zat game you sztart yeszterday," Aiden spoke with some authority, though the remark was more of a gentle command than a suggestion. It was a perfect imitation of Trishnar's respectful yet masterly tone, no small wonder given the years Aiden had spent under the man's roof. He'd certainly had plenty of time to learn the sound of it. Babette responded immediately, moving to the TV and turning it on, not questioning the order given. She sat on the floor and turned on the Playstation2, starting up the game as Aiden had prompted. Not that she needed much of a shove, Remy had seen quickly that playing with this console was her favorite way to pass the time. Anything that kept her from being depressed was just fine with him.

Kimble wasn't so unconcerned. He lingered where he stood, an unhappy frown on his face. It wasn't the order, he had never liked being left out of anything, something that was never going to change.

"Don't you start frettin'," Remy said, trying to lighten Kimble's mood. "Dis ain't no conspiracy. Jus' two friends needin' some catchin' up."

"Bring me back sumpthin's?" Kimble asked, not quite mollified.

"Of coursze," Aiden replied quickly. "It will be a szurprisze, yesz?"

Kimble smiled finally, won over by something in Aiden's words. He didn't bother to dress, but moved to sit next to Babette on the livingroom floor, the towel still wrapped around his neck.

Remy watched this display of Master and Siskan without comment, but couldn't help but be rankled a bit. He didn't like Kimble's submission but he really wasn't in a position to interfere between these two, not anymore. As long as Kimble was okay with it, he would let it go. His own jealousy would have to be left behind, it was unwanted and in the way.

Aiden shrugged at his two charges as if to say, "Kids, what you gonna do?" and reached for his clothes, a pile neatly pressed and lying next to the cubes on the kitchen table. He dressed quickly, straightening his hair and tugging on his boots. When he was finished, he rummaged in a drawer and next handed Remy a small pile of bills.

Gambit held his hands up, not taking it. "What's dis?"

"Szome of what Aiden sztill owesz. Not all, but ze reszt comesz when it can."

Remy sighed. "You don't need to pay me dis. I already told you."

Aiden insisted with a grunt and Gambit was forced to accept. Things had to be getting a little tight with Aiden being under house arrest and unable to work, but maybe that might come to an end. Aiden had been invited to join Seth's little project, but hadn't been told yet, something Remy was planning to do as they ate. He said nothing of it now, just took the money and pocketed it.

They left and made their way to the Bistro where Remy had made a reservation. This Club was popular and with the rising population here it was harder and harder to get a seat without notice. They sat at a cozy window seat and ordered. They chatted about nothing in particular while they waited for their food. It wasn't until they had begun eating that Aiden opened up the real conversation. His pale blue eyes flicked to Remy's face. "Szumptin' on your mind, preciousz?"

"Oui. Been readin' a little of what you wrote."

Aiden nodded, but then stilled. "I figure asz much when you call szo very late. It okay you want to diszcussz desze wordsz zat Aiden writesz, but we make szumptin' clear early. Aiden did not write disz book for pity. You sztart wit ze pity, zen Aiden leave, good food or non. Jusz' wanted Keem to undersztand who I am, szo...szo 'e love me all ze better, neh?"

Remy smiled. "Kimble don't need no book fo' dat. He's gone. Gone for you, all de way."

Aiden nodded knowingly and ate another bite. " 'Ow far did you get?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"I'm where you join de Muzla. When dey... when dey decide to melt you."

Aiden made no sound, no extra movement, but a small black swirl of pain and anger came into one corner of his shine, prompted by the memory of that no doubt. He swept it away with a laugh and a shrug. "Zen you read of usz? Of when you came to Trishnar'sz 'ousze?"

"Oui," Remy replied with a soft chuckle, not quite sure of what Aiden was getting at. Maybe he was simply trying to divert the subject away from less pleasant things to one he favored better – sex and Remy's education in it.

"Szo you read of **Shemuszk**. Mebbe... know it if you szee it?" Aiden tossed out, waiting to see what Remy would do with it. He still did not understand how it was that nobody saw what was troubling Kimble's younger brother so. Maybe now something would be done.

Remy paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. "Quoi?"

Aiden didn't qualify the remark, simply sat and waited for Remy to catch up.

Remy set his fork down, seeing he was going to have to figure this one out on his own. "You really t'ink **Shemusk** is real?"

"Why wouldn't it be? Becausze we are not real? Not alive like you?" Aiden challenged. He was clearly unsatisfied in some way, his pale green eyes hard.

Remy was angry at the statement made, remembering how awkward Aiden could be at times. He had hoped to get through this meal without a fight, but wasn't going to be pushed around either. He raised a finger in argument. "I never said you kids wasn't real. I'm probably de only one in dis place who agree an' understand de way you guys all t'inkin'. Don't be snappin' back at me, cher."

Aiden retreated a little but didn't apologize. "Aiden writesz what 'e szeesz and 'e szeesz much."

"Bein entendu. I ain't arguin' dat," Remy conceded, digging into his plate again. "Jus' dat sometimes what we see ain't so true as we read it."

Aiden digested that, his slender fingers tracing the rim of his glass. The Dreamer didn't like the challenge to his perceptions because it made him question his own judgement, something Father took a lot of pleasure in doing. Aiden hated it from Father and liked it from Remy even less.

"Szo 'ow isz Szet' doing desze daysz?" he tossed out again, not bothering to hide his irritation.

Gambit paused again, his mind trying to keep up with Aiden's constant change in tack. He didn't see the common thread of all these things and so was confused, not sure what was really being said here. Why would Aiden be the least bit interested in Kimble's brother? "Set's fine. Actually, one of de t'ings I was gonna talk to you about concerns 'im."

Aiden smiled, praying for the words he wanted to hear to come.

They didn't. Instead, Gambit was talking about work. "Set's buildin' a ship as you might know. Kimble been asked up to work alongside, but it's been decided you should come up, too. Keep you boys outta trouble. Yo' sister, too. Dere's gonna be folks helpin' out, some table set up wit' food an' such. Me an' Molly gonna be about, Babette might get some good from bein' outside."

Aiden sighed in exasperation and gave up. Gambit had no clue about Seth and wasn't going to get one anytime soon. Sometimes it took a sledgehammer for some to see the light, but Aiden wasn't going to risk his already precarious position here to wield one. Seth was on his own for now. "When?"

"Tomorrow mornin', eight sharp," Remy answered, happy that he got no argument.

"Aiden will come. Babette, she don't alwaysz like to leave, but Aiden will aszk 'er."

"Bien. Just to let you know, you gonna get paid fo' dis. It ain't a punishment. Dey t'ink mebbe you can really help dem out. Do y'self a favor and prove dem right, comprenez?"

Aiden's eyes met his own, instantly defiant against Remy's tone. The Siskan kept his mouth shut however and simply nodded, deciding it wasn't worth it. "We leave 'ere, I need to sztop at Leena'sz."

Remy smiled. Leena's was the primary candy shop in the Complex. Aiden clearly wanted to get something for Kimble as promised. He might have been brusque and Masterly towards his lover, but there would never be any doubt of his love. "What you gonna get?"

Aiden shrugged, but was already smiling. "Keemble got a weakness for ze dark choc'late. She got szome on szpecial laszt I looked." Gambit quirked an eyebrow. He had never considered anything other than regular milk chocolate for his Siskans. Aiden went on to say, "Babette, she like ze white, better when it come wit nutsz. You know disz, yesz?"

"Uh, not really, no," Remy stammered. "Never quite got dat far."

Aiden laughed. "Zen you should come by more often. Mebbe she teach you szome od'er t'ings you missed, eh?"

Gambit shook his head, still smiling at Aiden's persistent flirtations. This would never change with Aiden, he surmised. "Je suis de'sole. Gonna take a pass. Leave all dat up to you kids. I'm just glad knowin' she doin' better. You take good care of 'er."

Aiden nodded. "It isz my reszponszibility. 'Er and Keemble. I will take care of zem bot'."

"You need anyt'ing, all you gotta do is ask, eh?"

Aiden smiled then, his eyes merry. "Of coursze."

----------------------------

Remy and Aiden left the restaurant, made it to Leena's, and returned to the tiny apartment. There wasn't much time for further discussion, it was time for Angel to leave school, and Remy wanted to be there to pick her up. Aiden let him go, thanking him for lunch and slipped inside.

Gambit rushed to the school, he was almost late, and collected his young charge. He brought her home where Molly was waiting. He was recharged from his good conversation with Aiden and eager to get back to the Dreamer's journal. Molly knew this and took charge of Angel, allowing him time to read.

Remy wasted no time, he picked up where he had left off, at the breaking of Talalanay's young mind.

_The sun is a very warm thing, yes. It is lovely and warm, my dearest Kimble. Talalanay was a dreamer and a thinker, he once wondered what it would be like to touch the sun of Siska. It used to hang there in that perfect blue sky, so lovely and round. It would be so easy to hold it...hmm._

_The roar of a plasma gun is silent. It's silent until that great heat slams you. Then it screams like the whirlwind storms on Gre'esk, the ones that can flay the flesh from your bones if you're stupid enough to stay out and watch it come. It's a thousand swords, a million needles. _

_How do I know this? Well, I was born that day. Me, the Dreamer. I wasn't given shape, not just yet. I was just a glimmer behind the eyes of Kain, the Great Anger. He came out with a bang, oh yes. Just as the Masters had wanted. He was no ghost, he was simply too powerful. He took over the body immediately, booting Hanlan out without so much of a "by your leave". _

_The point of all this abuse against us of course was to make us violent. So far all Hanlan had allowed was a silent refusal to break down and cry or retaliate. The Muzla did not want this. They had wanted someone who would attack or fight back against anything they put in front of him. In bringing out Kain, they had finally succeeded. With the body stolen by yet another of us, Talalanay was gone from the body forever now, reduced to vapor and would remain as a ghost for the rest of our life._

_Kain felt the cooling waters of the recovery bath that was used to revive us from the melting and came to the surface howling, his ruined voice cracked and full of the Zs that would forever mark us as a Kintay du Lushna-esk Siskan Courtesan. Not that the Muzla gave a shit what we sounded like, they had achieved their goal and were quite pleased with the result. Kain was terribly violent, almost to the point of frenzy. They had to chain him, he was so powerful. It mattered not that he remained in that skin of a child. What is our skin but a clever disguise for the clever mind within? He flailed and kicked and spat and snapped with his teeth. They tossed him into a cage and left him there until he was done with his noise. _

_As a secondary effect of his breaking, Kain could no longer take from the cubes, but that was expected and hardly a problem. Gre'esk, the world of the Muzla, had three great suns. Plenty there for Kain, when he was damaged. _

_The Muzla had known of Siskan Courtesans for years, having used them for the purpose of Games before. They were sought out and highly prized. What was better for prize fighting than a creature who could be damaged and repaired at will? Oh, the money they could make!_

_First though, creatures such as us had to be prepared and trained. They dragged Kain back to the Giving Room to put him in a proper skin for battle. Talalanay's tiny child body was of no further use here. They erased all of his other skins as well, leaving us only in the skin of a fine Kyrule warrior. The Kyrule are humanoid as was best for fighting, but this skin also came with long streaming hair and rippling muscles. Our skin was dark and our eyes a cruel black, the whites now bloodshot with Kain's terrible rage._

_Our pale blue Mark of the Receiver remained for all to see. Any Siskan that is Marked will never be without a skin that shows that Mark. Because we were now down to this single skin at the moment, that Mark could not be disguised. Nor did the Masters want it hidden. It was thought it would make us look more exotic and fierce. _

_I will speak of the collective personalities of Talalanay only in the plural from now on, since that is really how I think of us at that time, before we were finally consolidated by the Games Master. Although the outside world only saw one of us -- Kain in his fine new skin -- there was always the constant gaggle of ghosts that only he could see. Forever in a crowd, Kain was never completely alone. Of course he most often ignored us, but that was besides the point. What I am trying to say is that we were always in a group._

_Once properly outfitted, Kain was ready to begin his training._

_They brought Kain in his chains and tossed him into a small practice arena. This is what was known as the "ring." It was a small circle, maybe twenty feet wide, surrounded by a high wall made of wood. The spectators would watch from above in safety, while the combatants stay in the ring. The floor of the ring was hard packed dirt covered in sawdust, there to collect the blood that inevitably spilled._

_Kain did not know what to expect in this new place, it wasn't a cage or a room in the caves. It was nothing he knew. He was confused in the large open space and surrounded by several of us ghosts that only he could see. In his frustration, he swung at us with his big fists, shouting garbled Siskan at us for us to be quiet and leave him alone._

_Grunk stood nearby, his companion Polter beside him. "Who does he fight? " the young apprentice asked._

"_His own demons, I suspect," Grunk replied, not all that far off the mark. "What he needs is a proper target, and I have provided it. Watch."_

_A sliding door opened in the wall of the ring and out stepped a powerfully built young man. He was dark haired and tall, dressed in leather, his arms free of chains but wrapped in armbands of silver. This was Trask, one of Grunk's better fighters. He had been chosen to start Krishnak on his way._

_Trask clapped his hands, getting Kain's attention. _

_Kain turned towards the noise, saw the man there, and charged with pure feral malice. He was reckless in his hate, all speed and gangled limbs, the chains that still bound his arms not causing any hesitation or caution in him at all. The bout ended quickly. One stunning blow from the more experienced fighter sent Kain crashing to the ground._

"Well, that was special."

_Kain opened one bloody eye. It seemed that one of his ghosts had settled down close for a chat. This ghost wasn't like most of the others, at this point the ghosts were almost all the images of children. This guy was an older man, bearded and blond. He never gave us a proper name, but we would come to know him as Father._

_Father is a hard one to explain. I think he has always been here, I seem to hear his whispers like the way I breathe. It just happens. He is a ghost and even now I still see him like he's really here in the world with me. He protects us and was the primary voice behind our survival. Father was and always has been a sensible fellow. He never took over the body himself, he preferred his spot on the sidelines, giving his often unasked for but still very sound advice. He's a follower, always blending in. Wherever we go, he always changes his clothes to match that of those around him. His goal was to help us survive, so that he may stay alive as well. For this adventure, he was dressed in_ _a fine, bloody leather Muzla ensemble, form fitting and oh, so versatile for any occasion._

"Get up!" _Father barked at Kain, ever so helpful. _"Don't show them your weakness!"

_Kain shambled to his feet, still reeling from Trask's powerful blow. Kain normally payed little attention to the whisperings of the crowd, but this one had spoken clearly and with real authority. _

_Trask was patient, standing at ease and rubbing his knuckles while he watched us rise. "I don't know, Grunk," he said to his Master, "This one's pretty pathetic."_

_Grunk snarled. "Do not speak at me with such familiarity, slave! I'll have you whipped."_

_Trask smiled, showing long jagged teeth, and bobbed his head in submission. "My apologies, Master," he said without a shred of remorse. "This one, he is too slow."_

_Grunk stomped over to where Kain had risen, we were now swaying on our feet, dazed. He came close to growl at us to move faster --- too close._

_Kain whirled suddenly, reaching out and pulling Grunk closer still, sinking his teeth into the Muzla man's neck. He might not have been much of a fighter at the time, but Kain was not stupid, he had faked well and had gotten the jump on Grunk. He didn't get far for his efforts, however -- Grunk was powerful in his own right and Trask was quick to back him up. Together they flung Kain back, the Siskan howling and snarling in rage._

_Grunk retreated and let Trask handle the rest. Trask shoved Kain back and belted him across the face, another resounding blow that crashed us down. He crouched down next to us to whisper, "I can't wait until you come to the pens. You'll make a nice bitch for me, cunt!"_

_Kain went livid at the suggestion he would be used for this man's sadistic pleasure. Kain grabbed for him but was contained by the powerful fighter and roughly hauled to his feet by his hair. Trask brought his face close to ours. "Did you like that, huh? That's what you'll hear from the others if you don't stop thrashing and try actually fighting. You can't think with this anger. It will get you killed!" He threw us back and waited to see what we would do next._

_Kain stepped back, his head no more clear than it had been before, and watched as Father stood beside him. _"This one speaks true. You might do well to listen to him."

_Kain wasn't interested in being reasonable. "Kill you!" he snarled at Trask, his mind still clouded with rage. He charged again, reckless in his hate and desire to murder._

_Trask sidestepped him easily and they sparred for a time --if you want to call it that. It mainly consisted of Kain running at him and being blasted down to the sawdust floor in a heap. Still Kain's anger did not fade._

_Father turned to the crowd of us ghosts, the compilation of whom Talalanay once had been. _"Kain cannot do this. We will be destroyed for certain. Is there no one here brave enough to try in his place?"

_One came forward, a tiny male child with the clarity of dispassion in his eyes. _"I could try."

"What's your name, boy?"

"Krishnak."

"Go then."

_Krishnak stepped forward and in spite of his small size, leapt into our body with some authority. Kain was displaced and Krishnak was there, no longer a child, but a now a man in this new skin. He took our body and rose up in it, all hurts and woe, but his eyes were the same dispassionate ice._

_Trask stepped back, sensing some sort of change. "You done screwin' around?"_

"_Yesz," Krishnak, the one who would become the Gladiator, replied._

_Trask cocked his head, hearing the lucidity in the voice, but also the strange inflection that was now ours from the melting. Perhaps he wondered if he had ruined us in some way, he had certainly hit us hard enough. "Let's begin."_

_And so it was that Trask taught the budding warrior the ways to fight. If Trask was startled by the abrupt change in our demeanor he gave no sign, other than a kind of relief that he was now being listened to. Krishnak took on quick, using his computer brain to learn and then store that knowledge where it _would_ be ours forever. The session lasted most of the day and we were exhausted._

"_You did well," Grunk told Krishnak as he led us away, out to the patio where we could sun ourselves and repair. Most of the Muzla lived in caves, but those caves had buildings on the outsides as well, areas for the real fights and lodgings for the gladiators. _

_I suppose gladiator might be too grand a word for the arena fighters on this world, it's just hard to find another that fits. We were scrub fighters, all dirty brawlers with no grace. At least until we came along. Krishnak would become one of Grunk's finest and most beautiful to watch, but that was still weeks away. There was more training left to be done._

_Krishnak did not comment on Grunk's compliment, he wasn't much for talking. He bathed in the sun, drinking in its warmth and listened to the crowd of ghosts that followed. _"If you keep this up..." _Father was saying, "_...you'll do well. Keep us alive. There has to be some kind of way out of here."

_Another came close. Jinsk was her name. She whispered, "_It will never get better than this, only worse. Let Trask kill us. It would be better to die than to endure another day of pain."

_Krishnak shivered, his long hair drifting some in the wind.It was warm here in this place and his sweat chilled him now, helped along by those sorrowful words. He would not give in to her sentiment, he had decided that early. They were only just discovering this new place, he wanted to learn the ropes before resigning himself to death. He was Krishnak, the one who would be Gladiator, and he would not be gotten rid of so easily._


	6. Chapter 6

(Six)

_Krishnak trained with Trask for a week. It was hard and brutal -- Trask never held back his blows and was teaching us in the same fashion as the one who had trained him. It mattered not, we were allowed to repair once the session was done and returned the next day unmarked. _

_We learned to dodge and duck blows, moving faster and faster. There were things that Quishnalay had never told Talalanay about ourselves, things like that we were stronger than the average human. Stronger and faster. These things we learned from Trask by default by wanting to avoid the pain and injury he would inflict on us if we were too slow._

_He taught us how to punch and kick, simple things really, but ones that could be refined to mean more. What is a fight but a dance after all? He gave to us the basics, enough that we could start to earn our keep and Grunk was pleased._

_There was still more to learn however. _

_Not all our bouts came against men. The newest fighters were often pitted against lesser intelligent animals. When Trask's job was completed, Grunk moved us onto the next challenge. Once again he brought us to the ring, but this time, instead of Trask, he had another opponent in mind._

_Grunk came out of the rear door, holding a great and snarling beast on a leash. This was a punktar, the equivalent of an Earthly dog, only larger and far more savage. "You will fight this beast, Siskan!" he said to us._

_Krishnak did not reply, he was confused by the change and did not understand._

_Grunk released the hound._

_It's a wonder just how much pain a Courtesan can withstand and still survive. It never fails to amaze me. Just when you think the worst is over, here comes something new._

_The punktar came at us, teeth slashing. Krishnak was angry from the pain and ended up with two battles to fight -- one with the punktar, and another with Kain who was howling to be returned to the helm. Krishnak realized that his hold on the body was tenuous. He had to control his anger or risk letting Kain take us over, possibly for good. He wasn't about to let that happen. _

_Krishnak struggled at first. He flailed about the ring, screaming and trying to get away from the terrible monster who was trying to get at us. The beast followed, biting at our legs and tripping us. We fell, the slobbering hot breath of the punktar choking us._

"Fight him! Break him down! You are faster and stronger than he is!"

_This voice came not from Grunk, but from Father._

_Father's voice and his faith in us roused Krishnak's sensibilities and he fought with better skill, using those things that Trask had just taught us. He hit the punktar with his mighty fists and threw his weight against it. It was blind fighting, an action of instinct, and we had more cunning than we realized. One good solid blow and the beast's face was broken. It whimpered in pain and_ _fled but we followed it, grabbing at it and pounding it even more. _

_The rage came and this time Krishnak let it, allowing Kain to come out and release some of that pent up anger. Kain howled and snarled, he hit and hit the downed punktar until it breathed its last shivery gasp and lay still._

"_Good," Grunk said and nodded. "You will do fine."_

_It wasn't much longer before the Masters thought Krishnak was strong enough to hold his own so they moved him to the pens where the rest of their stable of fighters were kept._

_It was not a friendly environment. _

_The pens consisted of sturdy wooden outbuildings located outside the main caves where the Muzla dwelled. The floor was hard packed earth and there were no beds. Finding a resting place was a matter of claiming a spot on the floor for yourself and defending it. There were windows here, a simple blessing, and fresh outside air. For that we were grateful. It would be the only thing._

_Like all societies, there was a pecking order. The rules are simple, --the strongest get the best treatment, the best food, and the better sleeping spots, end of story. There were the proven ones, the ones dominant and powerful enough that they were left alone. There was the second class, those who prowled in small packs, preying on the weaker ones. Then there were those weaker ones, the newest and less trained. They were beaten, pushed down or worse. Woe be it if they were even the least bit pretty._

_Krishnak was cursed. No matter what skin you cram a Siskan into we invariably come off as attractive in our way. It didn't take him long to be singled out. Not even the first night there and he got jumped. _

_Of all the fighters there that Krishnak glimpsed, he was the only Siskan here. The rest were brutal flesh and blood, driven by fleshly desires and a need to lash back at a world that had treated them so harshly. It was full dark, long after the feeding time, and most of the fighters were asleep when they came for him. Krishnak had tried to settle down, having found a small corner in which to pass the night. They came on him almost silently, giving him no time to prepare._

_Three pairs of thick and ugly hands grabbed at him, dragging him away from the corner and out into the dim moonlight of the single window. Instantly in terror, the small tiny part of us that was Talalanay cried out for succor, for the Master to come and help us. No one came._

_Krishnak tried to defend the body, lashing out with his feet and biting at the hands that held us. It did no good, they were far too powerful for him. They twisted him, crushing him down onto his knees and took him by force. It was noisy and loud, this proceeding, and others awoke. No one helped him, however, they only averted their eyes, thankful it wasn't them this night, or stood still to watch without interfering. There would be no help here, no one to save Krishnak from this terrible indignity._

_The rape itself was bad enough, but it's the vibrations that hurt the worst. You know of what I speak, Kimble, how could you not? It seems as though it happens to us all sooner or later. As they forced Krishnak, these stinking **Chuckfet **gladiators, he could feel their hatred of him come at him like a thousand weapons, a million sharpened daggers. Yes, here was the first time we heard that word –- **Chuckfet **-- it was used by the others as a means to separate themselves from Krishnak, a Siskan. They knew he was different and so they used that word to say they were better than Krishnak was, though that will always be a lie. Krishnak was pretty. He was also stronger than them in that he was Siskan. He could also be repaired and would not suffer an early death like they certainly would here in the arena. He was not destined to die in the blood soaked ground of the that tiny circular battlefield. Funny, you would have thought that death would be a mercy, but deep inside they still wanted to live and to survive. Their anger they directed at us, the one who would not die so easily._

_Krishnak screamed and fought his attackers that first night, but they subdued him with their superior numbers and had their fun, one **Chuckfet** after the other, as they were so proud to say, not ceasing until they had sated themselves of their anger and their disgusting rotten lust. Drowning in the horrible pain and ugly stinking vibrations, Krishnak wasn't even able to grasp even the meager amounts of pleasure like Talalanay used to get from clients. He felt no shivers of joy at being used, he didn't hear their heartbeats or feel their luscious heat. It was just a horrible terrible corruption of the purpose for which we were made. There could be no worse crime._

_When it was over, they tossed Krishnak aside like garbage, he was no longer needed. He scrambled away, his gel blood mixed with their semen dripping out of him like pus from a festering wound. As he once more scrunched in the corner, he caught a glimpse of the Masters watching -- both of them had been standing by the bars of the cage. They had witnessed the whole thing, their bright **Chuckfet** shines sparkling brightly with amusement. We were horrified. What kind of Master would enjoy such a thing? We were to learn that it would include most of them._

Remy shuddered and closed his eyes. It wasn't just the pain of having to read this twisted tale of woe and horror, it was Aiden's warped thinking. It always came down to this with Aiden -- Us and Them. **Chuckfet** and Siskan. _How different Aiden would be if I'd only found him first,_ the thief couldn't help himself but think. Time and time again this thought would come to him. He wanted to save them all, these Siskans. He wanted to wrap them up in his arms and tell them it was all going to be okay, that they didn't have to hate anymore and that he would protect and love them all forever. Of course, he couldn't really do that. Not alone anyway, he was only one man. He could only hope that in time, he might finally get a little help in this regard. Until then the best he could do is read and learn as much as he could.

_It took some time, but as Krishnak's skill in fighting grew with experience, he eventually learned how to beat off the packs and was left alone. As I said, Quishnalay had kept his secrets, he never told Talalanay that we were so much stronger physically and quicker than our fleshly clients. We learned this on our own -- Krishnak and Father formed an alliance and both were quick to learn. Krishnak fought and Father advised, an unbreakable team. Their practice field was the arena and the skills learned there paid off in spades in the pens._

_Krishnak claimed a corner spot by the back wall and managed to hold it as his own. It was nice in that corner, having two walls to lean against and for better protection. There was a window there as well, one that looked out into the night. It was looking out into that sky that gave Krishnak the most comfort in his solitude. It was the only thing pretty here and reminded what was left of Talalanay of Siska, our home from far away. We still thought of that place, and when the mood was on us, Sheema would come close and weep her silent tears, her only wish to return to Quishnalay's gardens and lie his arms once more. Krishnak was not weak enough to give in to such desires, he would banish his pesky ghosts from his sight and simply enjoyed the look of the moon and stars so very far away from here._

_Another thing that became very clear during our introduction to the pens and the world of real fighting, was that we despised pain. The rapes and the fighting, the big bloody battles, they were an agony for Krishnak. His survivor skills grew to be sure, but not because he desired to be the best at what he did or of any sense of pride, it was the pure pursuit of the avoidance of pain. He don't like to be hit, bruised, bitten, and above all, raped. There is no greater insult to our body, to be used for the sole gratification of another in this way. Funny, heh? That distinction. How very un-Siskan-like of me._

_With pain, came a great anger, one that could be scarcely controlled. The more pain we received, the angrier we got. With that anger came a brutality biblical in scale. Kain would at times pop out in the ring and reap his own havoc. The temper tantrums he threw were spectacular and most often fatal to the recipient. Our Masters loved Krishnak because it wasn't often that he lost a fight. A deadly conclusion was not the goal of our battles -- a simple defeat would suffice -- but in Krishnak's case, he more often allowed Kain some control, enough to beat our opponents to death for hurting us rather than letting them walk away merely damaged. Those that managed to survive did not always fare well enough to fight again and were sometimes destroyed by their Masters for being so useless._

_In the pens at night, it became harder and harder for the packs to restrain Krishnak and soon enough the prize was not worth the pain it took to get it. They really started to back off when they became so injured, some of them were not strong enough to survive their arena bouts the next day. When it came down to survival, there was much easier prey as the Masters were adding to the stable all the time._

_Krishnak watched as they were added, these tender new fighters, and did nothing to stop the packs that preyed on them. No one had done so for him, so why should he care? In fact, he had grown to care nothing for anyone but himself. Our survival was his only priority and the fate of anyone else was beyond his notion. He didn't help the new ones, nor did he trouble them. If one should try to beg him for protection, Krishnak simply ignored them. He had enough to worry about with his gaggle of ghosts following him around, what use did he have for another voice in the choir? No, Krishnak fought his fights, came home to rest, ate his meager food and then slept or looked out of his precious window. That was the extent of our life._

_That would soon change of course. It always does._

Remy stopped here, his eyes burning from reading. He wasn't used to so much computer reading and it tired him. He found the story engaging and instructive none the less. He couldn't wait for tomorrow when the construction of Seth's new ship would begin. Again, he wanted to look on Aiden with his own eyes and try to equate the man he knew with one he was reading about. He still had many questions but they would have to wait.

-----------------------------------

Down below, Charles Xavier was once more facing an envelope on his desk that's origin wasn't in doubt. Jael favored the same stationary and his penmanship was excellent. Charles sighed and slid out the single page of notepaper. The message came as no surprise.

_Dearest Charles,_

_Greetings to you and all your X-men. I hope this finds you in the best of health. I am most sorry about demolishing your schools, but you must understand that I did give you plenty of time to comply with my demands. You chose to ignore me and so I was forced to punish you. You now hopefully recognize that I am a force to be reckoned with and will not be denied. Turn over all of your Siskans at once and further bloodshed can be avoided. If not, you will witness the extent of my wrath. If you think that destroying two half empty schools is the limit of my power you will be sadly mistaken._

_Yours truly, _

_Jael_

"What are you going to do?"

Charles looked up into the eyes of Scott Summers, his second in command. Scott had read the note over his shoulder and didn't look any more pleased about it than he did himself. "I'm not sure. At least we got a confirmation of who it was that struck us."

"You aren't going to turn the Siskans over are you?"

"Of course not. That is the one thing I do know. We will have to increase our defenses and warn our allies, though I suspect most of them are aware that they may come under fire, guilty by association. I want increased perimeter patrols and training sessions, including first aid and rescue."

Scott nodded. "It will be done. We have plenty of new recruits coming in. Even though the schools were damaged, we still have people arriving there looking for help. We have some trailers set up there to help out."

"Good. No one gets left behind."

"And Jael? You have a response for him?"

"If I thought it would do me any good I'd send him a copy of my latest lecture on ethics and the sanctity of life."

Scott chuckled a bit at the Professor's joke, even though the tone was still quite serious. "I'm sure there are some extras lying around we can send him."

"Seriously. Again I will not dignify this man's threats with a response, not just yet. I just want to be ready the next time he comes."

"Why don't we just go after him? We could send out some patrols and spies. Someone has to know where he is."

"That would be fine if we knew he would leave us alone in the meantime. I don't dare pull my senior people out of here. We will need them all to defend ourselves. I won't make the mistake of leaving this place undefended."

Scott nodded, knowing that some of that was guilt for leaving the two schools open for attack. It would be some time before Charles forgave himself for those who had died. "You think he will find us here?"

"Oh yes, I most certainly do. And I plan on being ready for him, when he does."

-----------------------------

The subject of Charles' thoughts was too busy at the moment to be thinking of Charles, however, he was watching his press coverage on the television.

"Stupid humans," Jael grumbled in amusement, shaking his head.

He was lying expansively over his huge bed, Star sprawled out beside him. She was out cold from another vigorous bout of lovemaking, but he was anything but tired. He had clicked on the news and was frankly amazed by what the human response to his little party had been.

There had been a lot of news coverage of the strikes against the Xavier Institute. Instead of sympathy for the mutant leader's bad luck, all the humans wanted was more blood. They were pissing and moaning about being caught in the middle of all the mutant squabbling. Coupled with Jael's earlier strike against New York, people wanted blood. Mutant blood in particular.

The President was being forced to respond. He was giving a speech, addressing the nation in his most gravest voice. "My fellow Americans, the time has come to deal with this threat. No longer can we afford to sit quietly by while innocent human lives are crushed by those mutants who feel they must terrorize our nation to be heard. It is with a heavy heart that I say we must pass new laws, the Mutant Registration Act specifically."

Jael's belly shook with gruff laughter. He knew what was going to happen now. No one was about to take this lying down, mutant factions were going to rise up and protest. It might even come down to a contest, who could make the bloodiest point. He thought he might be up to that.

Jael clicked his intercom, buzzing for Razel.

The teleporter was prompt in his response. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Get me the Captains of the Crusader and Hellion," Jael ordered a grin on his lion's face. "I have a side job for them to do."

"What of Xavier, my Lord? With all your ships in place, it would be nothing to take them down once we finally locate him."

With Tranan taken care of, Jael had gathered his four great Command ships back to the Arizona desert, not far from the Industrial Complex where Charles had purchased his great building. Jael was still uncertain how many – or if any -- of these buildings Charles might own. The tracking devices that had been implanted in Sabretooth had only suggested this location, they hadn't confirmed it exactly. This Industrial Park was huge, there were several possibilities where Xavier could be hiding, and Jael didn't want to blow the element of surprise by attacking the wrong one. He would wait to launch until he was absolutely sure of where to attack before he did anything. He felt he had the time to wait, he was more powerful now than ever before.

Jael's four Command ships – the Cloud Jumper, the Hellion, the Crusader, and the Mayfair – were fully staffed and now waiting for orders. Jael's men had "acquired" three of these great ships from his attack on Trishnar's palace, as well as confiscating some of Trishnar's pilots and Dognan officers to run them. While these men were still being held against their will, Jael had seen to it that they were sufficiently cowed by fear enough to obey his every order. They would happily kill for him to save their own skins.

Jael's plan hadn't changed. He was going to make Xavier turn over his Siskans or else. The attack on the Westchester and Massachusetts Academies hadn't brought immediate results. Perhaps he could up the ante a little bit. If he couldn't sniff Xavier out on his own, perhaps he could acquire some help in the matter. He could accomplish that and at the same time, show this President what a real show of power was.

Jael was quick to reassure his Second in Command that everything was still proceeding as planned. "Fear not, Razel. I will finish this in my own time. I just feel compelled to respond to this ridiculous American President. You know Butch Madison will and I won't have that little freak upstaging me."

"Of course, my Lord. I'll have the captains call you at once."

Jael clicked off, his hand shifting to gently pet the sleeping Siskan beside him. This was going to be such fun.

On the screen the President was sealing his own doom, spouting lies no sensible mutant would believe. "I want to assure all people that this Registration Act in no way means that we plan to incarcerate anyone. There will be no arrests, no camps. We simply need to know what is out there and set up a database for all mutant offenders to better assist SHIELD in protecting our nation."

_SHIELD?_ Jael thought to himself. He'd had more than one associate imprisoned by those fools in black. Maybe he would up the stakes and show Fury himself just how pathetic and weak he was. Oh, yes. Fury was definitely on the list.

Star stirred restlessly, her empathic body picking up on her Master's vibrations of evil intent. Just the thought of those strikes was making him hard, he would want her again. She was so afraid of him now, all he thought about was killing and blowing things up. She knew the Game had to be played for her to escape her current plight, but she was frightened by all the violence around her. She didn't like her Master's vibrations, they hurt her and made her sick. If only this Game would end. If only someone would come to her rescue.

To be continued in Growing Pains


End file.
